The Key To Immortality
by TBear6000
Summary: Post AWE. Nearly five years after parting with her husband, Elizabeth finds herself and her four year old son, William, embarking on yet another journey to World's End. This time to help Jack find the Fountain of Youth and to reunite with Will.
1. The Key

"He had decided to live forever, or die in the attempt." - Joseph Heller

* * *

Captain Jack Sparrow purposefully glided the oar through the murky water. 

It was here. They were close. After all the years spent reclaiming his ship, deciphering the map, and decoding the clues, it was now here for the taking. It was finally within his grasp.

He slid the longboat to a stop at the edge of the cave, pulling it up upon the rocks.

"And you're sure this be the exact spot?" Barbossa asked.

Annoyed, Jack looked over at him, hating the unholy alliance he'd been force to make. But immortality was a treasure worth any compromise. And, once he'd achieved it, things would be far different.

"Do I detect a hint of doubt about my navigational abilities?"

Barbossa's merely rolled his eyes.

"Just ahead lies the chamber, where lies the spring, next to which lies the chalice what is used for drinking from said spring," Jack said, walking ahead with a confident swagger.

Barbossa and the rest of the crew of the Black Pearl followed only steps behind him. However, instead of encountering a spring, or a chamber - or anything, for that matter -they met the end of their journey, at a wall of solid rock.

"What say ye now, Jack?" Barbossa taunted.

Jack the monkey cocked his head to the side, mockingly.

"I say," Jack replied, unwaveringly, "the chamber lies ahead."

Jack ran his hands up and down the face of the rock, looking for something that might indicate an opening.

"There," he said, running his fingers along a smooth, straight indentation that ran along the rock from the floor of the cave to a height of five feet. "This is a door of some crude shaping, and herein lies the chamber."

"And how do we open the door?" Barbossa asked.

Ignoring him and continuing his examination, Jack discovered what appeared to be the tiniest circular aperture near the base of the rock. Aside from it's unusual spherical shape, it looked, to Jack's mind, discernibly like a keyhole.

Growing impatient, Pintel stepped forward, with Ragetti following closely on his heels.

"I say we pry it open," Pintel offered, raising the crude metal spike he'd retrieved from their longboat.

Barbossa looked at them and shrugged, indifferent to the suggestion.

Pintel and Ragetti set about attempting to pry the rock loose along the indentation that Jack had pointed out. However, the minute their crude instruments came into contact with the rock and the first upward tug was made, the ground beneath them suddenly began to wobble and shake in a most violent manner.

"Quake!" Gibbs shouted out a warning to the other pirates.

Pebbles and debris began to rain down from the walls and ceiling of the cave. The waters behind them splashed brutally onto the rocks, threatening to sweep away their longboats. Without warning, they heard a loud slurping sound, and a rush of air blew past them all, toward the rock face. Just as suddenly as the shaking had begun, it abruptly stopped, and a quiet overtook the cave, once again.

In a nonchalant manner, Jack brushed off his clothes, straightened his hat, and turned to Pintel and Ragetti.

"I would hazard a guess that that wasn't the wisest course," he stated.

"Aye," Gibbs agreed, looking about ominously. "Something protects this chamber and knows who is meant to pass and who is not."

"Could this mean something?"

Everyone spun around to regard Murtogg and Mullroy, who had wandered away from the rest of the group and were presently staring at something on the wall, twenty feet from Jack's would-be door.

"It looks important," Murtogg said.

"Oh," Mullroy replied, "and just because _you_ discovered it, it _must_ be of some great import. Is that what you're saying?"

He considered this a moment.

"No," he said. "But, if someone took the time to carve it here, they must have intended it to be read by someone else. Owing to that, it could hold some importance for our little journey."

"We do seem to have hit a dead-end," Mullroy conceded.

Ignoring them, as usual, Jack and Barbossa pushed past the crowd to observe the carving they had discovered.

Jack read aloud. "La puerta a la vida eterna es impedida. La llave de inmortalidad a mentiras con el Ferrier de Almas Mortales."

Jack and Barbossa exchanged a knowing glance.

"What does it mean?" Gibbs inquired.

"It says," Barbossa translated, putting on his most ceremonious voice, " 'The door to eternal life is barred. The key to immortality lies with the Ferrier of Mortal Souls'."

Knowing the trouble this would mean, Jack let out an almost undetectable sigh. Then, turned to Barbossa.

"Perhaps it's time to pay Mrs. Turner a visit," Barbossa said.

"Aye," was Jack's only reply.

"Poppet?" Pintel asked, wondering how _she_ could fit into the mix.

"Poppet," Ragetti echoed, laughingly.

* * *

AN: I promise, this story is primarily is about Elizabeth, Will III (who will, more often than not, be referred to as William), and Will. However, some of the other familiar characters will come along for the ride. This chapter, sans Elizabeth, was necessary for plot purposes. 


	2. Missing Will

AN: _The next two chapters are heavy on information, but are necessary to explain what's happened to Elizabeth, and what her life has been like for the past five years. I apologize, since it's probably not as exciting, but it gives some background to the story._

* * *

What shall I do with all the days and hours

That must be counted ere I see thy face?

- Frances Anne Kemble

* * *

Almost five years ago to the day, Elizabeth Turner stood in the white sand, watching her entire world sail away. She'd promised Will, she'd promised herself, she'd be strong. After all, this was far better than the alternative. Never - not even for one fleeting moment - did she doubt that. Having Will _alive_, and back in her life to stay, was worth anything she had to go through to get to that point. She'd gladly sacrifice the present, so that they may have a future. Yet, her heart failed her. To a young woman of merely twenty-two, a decade was literally half a lifetime; so very long to exist without the man who had meant everything to her since the age of twelve. Standing on the outside edge of what promised to be ten lonely years worth of sadness and longing, it was nearly impossible for Elizabeth to find the will to go on. 

Yet, through her desperation, her clouded mind knew that Will was enduring the same fate as she, and she knew that his struggle would only be heightened by knowledge of her despair. It would kill him to see her lying broken and alone on the sand. She would be strong for him. Somehow, she would go on, if only because it is what he would wish her to do.

As their one day together had come to a close, Will had broached the topic that neither one of them had been able to bring themselves to discuss: where she would go, and how she would live, while he was gone. They had come to the mutual agreements that the Caribbean would always be their home and that, after ten years time, Elizabeth would return to their island to meet him. As customary in their relationship, Will would never dictate to her what she should and shouldn't do, and it was no different when it came to his period of absence. He wished her to go where she pleased, do as she pleased, and be as happy as she could be. Her avenues were completely open.

With one last look at the beach where they had become one, she slowly pulled her longboat into the sea and began rowing back to the _Empress_, which had been waiting for her offshore. Though the battle with the East India Trading Company had been won, Elizabeth was still captain of the vessel, still Pirate King. While it was true that her crew had initially been wary of unexpectedly finding themselves with an unknown _woman_ as their leader, she had proven her bravery and skill in battle, and they were now proud to call their King their Captain.

Thus, Elizabeth found herself on the deck of her very own ship, with the world at her feet, a childhood dream come true. It would have been an exhilarating moment had it not been for the fact that the only thing she truly wanted wasn't in her world to be had. Nevertheless, she pondered what she would do with the next ten years. It was no secret that the allure of piracy had always called to her and, in the past years, she and Will had truly embraced the lifestyle. Yet, the two of them would never quite be on the same level as Jack, Barbossa, and their lot. They were never after treasure or riches, couldn't imagine terrorizing innocent townsfolk in order to loot and plunder, and had never killed, save in self-defense. It was their freedom that had always attracted Elizabeth to the pirate lifestyle, and it was freedom that she and Will had fought for. Freedom from the likes of Beckett, and his ilk. Freedom to sail the seas, to live, to fight, to die for what was right. Now, Elizabeth found herself completely free - the freest she had ever been in her life - yet, ironically, the most imprisoned, for it was Calypso's "curse" that kept her trapped in a decade's worth of isolation from her husband. Still, she knew she could never return to her former lifestyle – and she would never wish to. The seas would always call to her, and it was upon them that she felt closest to Will.

So, she sailed. Not as a pirate, exactly. She and her crew never sacked towns or pillaged ports, and never took part in battle – unless absolutely necessary. They sailed more as a merchant vessel than a pirate ship. However, their trading was never quite according to the books. Elizabeth was not a lawless person, but she felt no need to obey unjust laws or pay harsh tariffs. As a result, they often took part in secret dealings and black market trading. She kept her ties to piracy, as well as her title as Pirate King, although that didn't seem to matter much, except for the additional respect it afforded her, as Jack had been right. The pirates were very much like cuttlefish and, while they could maintain a loose confederation, too much fraternization never had positive results, and the Brethren Court had yet to meet again. It was in this manner that Elizabeth managed to skirt the boundaries of piracy, yet still maintain respectability and her ties to the outside world. It was a curious lifestyle, but Elizabeth had always been a curious woman.

In the beginning, it had been a challenge to convince the crew to go along with her strange idea. However, they agreed to at least try one trading venture, as they had nothing to lose. Once they discovered that they could turn an even greater profit this way, their respect for Captain Turner grew larger still, and they never again questioned her judgment. Word of her prosperous enterprise, as well as her part in the epic battle with the EITC, spread amongst the pirate community. This information, along with the knowledge that her husband was now captain of the _Flying Dutchman_, led many a sailor and vessel to join up with her for the protection, recognition, respect – and novelty - that came along with being a part of her crew. In a short time, Elizabeth found herself at the head of quite a little franchise.

As much as she enjoyed the new life she had created for herself, sailing around the world, she missed Will terribly and counted down the days until his return. It was with 3,583 days still to wait, that Elizabeth discovered she was going to have a baby. Despite her best efforts to be strong, she had found herself unable to truly be so. Will's absence had devastated her, and her health and wellbeing were the first things to suffer. She rarely enjoyed a good night's sleep, as her thoughts were always filled with memories and visions of Will - or nightmares of his stabbing and near death. She was moody, constantly weary, and her body ached. Her appetite was non-existent and, for the first time in her life, she struggled with bouts of seasickness. Elizabeth credited her symptoms to stress and depression, and had never once considered even the possibility of the actual cause of her condition, until that morning. After she finished heaving the meager contents of her breakfast over the side of the _Empress_, something that had become a part of her regular routine, Tai Huang gently took her aside and asked her when she expected her child. First confused, then stunned, by his question, Elizabeth had returned to her quarters without a reply. It was there that realization, finally, began to dawn. Her entire world _hadn't _sailed away that bittersweet sunset, for Will had left a part of himself behind. He had left her the greatest gift he could've possible given – his child.

She should've been panicked – a woman alone, with no husband and no true connections. Yet, from the moment she realized she carried Will's child, borne of their love, she felt restored. She hugged her middle, ecstatically. This baby would provide daily proof that hope lived on; their love lived on. This child gave her something immediate to fight for, to be strong for, to _live_ for, through their ten lonely years of separation. She would love this child, protect it, and raise it well. Will would return to find, not only her, but also their perfect son or daughter waiting for him, and the thought made her dizzy with anticipation. Her only true sadness and regret lie in the knowledge that Will wouldn't be there to share the experience with her, and would miss out on so much of his child's early life.

Along with her elation, Elizabeth knew that the existence of their child also meant a change in lifestyle, for marine excursions, even those of a generally peaceful nature, were not the safest ventures. Skirmishes, storms, and everyday accidents could occur at any moment. That was part of the excitement. However, as a new mother who protected her child, Will's child, _their_ child, she would die before she would take even the slightest chance that any harm would come to their baby. If that meant giving up the sea for a time, than so be it. Thus, she decided that she would run her enterprise from ashore, leaving her trusted first mate, Tai Huang, in charge of affairs at sea. She ordered her ship to change course and begin the journey to Port Royal. Her crew was in too much awe of her to argue the point. The struggles she would endure as a single mother were daunting enough, in their minds, to afford her additional respect. Moreover, because they knew the infant she carried was fathered by the immortal captain of the _Flying Dutchman_, they took particular care that no harm should come to her or the child. If it did, they felt they would surely suffer his wrath, for while he was certainly nothing like Jones, they had witnessed the punishment he dealt out on Beckett and, superstitious lot that they were, they knew he possessed supernatural powers. Furthermore, they were convinced that they would be rewarded on the other side, should they happen to meet their end, if they took special care of his wife and child. Therefore, every sailor on the seas – pirate or otherwise – knew not to cross Elizabeth, or the baby she carried. If she, herself, did not unleash her terror upon you, her immortal husband surely would!

Accordingly, there was never any question that she would make it safely to Port Royal and, once she did, she set out, straightaway, to settle her father's estate as soon as possible, and then be gone again. It wasn't that there were any remaining legal issues. After Beckett's death, the EITC had ended its reign of terror on the community, and done its best to mend its tarnished reputation. Amnesty was granted to anyone who had been deemed an "offender", regardless of their actions, as the company wished to rid itself of further dealings in the supernatural, and to distance itself as far as possible from Beckett and his black magic. Their focus turned to matters of finance, and they hadn't the slightest inclination to hunt down every last known pirate that sailed the seas. Elizabeth knew she was safe in Port Royal, and it would always hold a special place in her heart for what it had once been to her. However, everything was different now. Someone new lived in the Governor's Manner and the smithy stood empty. She knew she could not settle there. There was nothing left for her there but memories that all at once comforted and tortured her.

Nevertheless, before Elizabeth left, she walked the beach where she and Will had played as children, and loved as adults. Her heart, body, and soul ached for the blacksmith, the pirate, the immortal Captain, the husband, the lover that destiny had taken from her. Sighing, she sat down upon the sand, setting the chest, which she carried with her always, beside her. Her eyes began to cloud with tears as she laid her hand on her now protruding belly. The rhythm of Will's heart somehow became louder and more distinct, causing her to break from her musings and glance up at the chest that had shared her bed, in Will's place, for the past five months.

She couldn't say exactly what drove her, but she felt an overwhelming compulsion to unburden her thoughts, feelings, and emotions, upon the chest. Glancing about, to ensure no one would hear, she placed the chest in her lap. At this, Elizabeth felt their child kick, and she smiled. Listening to its calming rhythm, she began to speak to her husband's heart, as if it were Will, himself. She spoke of everything she'd done over the past months. She spoke of how her own heart ached for him. She told him of their baby, when it would be coming, and how happy it made her. All the while, as she spoke, tears ran down her face and fell upon the chest.

It was then that she had a most peculiar experience. Without warning, she felt a wave of comfort, security, and love wash over her. She closed her eyes, giving in to the sensation. For the first time in five months, her loneliness was gone, and her heartache was soothed. Though she couldn't place her finger on the why or how, she suddenly could feel her husband's presence there with her.

"Will?" Elizabeth whispered.

At the utterance of his name, she could physically feel Will's arms about her, holding her, comforting her, resting upon her swelled middle that carried their child. She smiled in ecstasy, and for a moment their two hearts beat as one. Then it was all gone, and Elizabeth felt herself alone, once more, on the beach. Opening her eyes in wonder at what had just occurred, she rose up, brushing the sand from her skirt, and headed towards town. She had one more place to visit.

She stood outside the smithy, smiling with pride at the sign which read "W. Turner, Blacksmith". The shop, which had come into Will's possession following the death of Mr. Brown, had lay vacant since the day of Will and Elizabeth's almost wedding. Stepping inside, her eyes filled with tears, once again. These, however, were not of sadness. They were borne of only happiness for the moments she'd shared with Will in this very spot. She could almost she their figures dancing about the smithy, engrossed in one of their sword fighting lessons. Smiling, she went around the shop, collecting all of Will's belongings and the few swords that he had left behind, some finished, some still works in progress. Despite the streak of selfishness it betrayed, for it would force the residents to start from scratch on a new facility, Elizabeth could not bring herself to sell Will's smithy. Money was certainly not a concern. She had inherited a small fortune from her father to add to the steady income from her trading enterprises. She would _not_ sell the smithy, of this she was sure. Wherever they ultimately settled, Will's old blacksmith shop would still be his when he returned.

With the final vestiges of her past life settled, she set out to discover where her new home would be. Elizabeth wanted to find a safe place, yet one that was free from forts, soldiers, and high society, with all of its expectations. Additionally, it would have to be a port that was friendly to both merchant and pirate vessels. She settled on a small island, not far from Shipwreck Cove, where she had a moderately sized house commissioned for herself and her family. Owing to Will's admonition to "keep a weather eye on the horizon", she had the house built on a high cliff that overlooked the sea. Ever mindful of the fact that it would, one day, be his home, as well, she added items of personal taste and interest to Will throughout. The days passed, and Elizabeth grew along with their house. Thankfully, it was finished in time for the birth of their child. It was amazing what a little threatening, and a lot of money, could do!

* * *


	3. Their Child

* * *

"Fill my heart with gladness, take away my sadness,

Ease my troubles - that's what you do."

– Van Morrison

* * *

After a painful, but routine, labor - with the chest in bed beside her - Will and Elizabeth's son, William Weatherby Turner, III, was born. Though she would've fiercely loved their child, regardless of its gender, from the moment she learned she carried the babe, her heart had secretly wished it would be a boy, one that would be the spitting image of his father. Elizabeth knew, as soon as their son was first placed in her arms, that her wish had been granted. An instant wave of love crashed over her as she beheld the baby that, at less than one minute old, already looked so much like his father. Tears began to fall down her cheeks as she kissed his tuft of wavy brown hair. Little William's already chocolate brown eyes met hers. Elizabeth couldn't help but smile as, exactly like Will's did, their son's eyes simultaneously examined, admired, and adored her. It was as if she was beholding a miniature version of her Will. 

As the years passed by, William grew to look more and more like his father. In personality, he was a perfectly blended combination of Will and Elizabeth. He had Will's sensitivity, understanding, quiet intensity, and selfless, loving spirit, coupled with Elizabeth's inquisitive, precocious nature and mischievous spirit. Once he learned to walk, Elizabeth, always the diligent and doting mother, found herself watching him like a hawk. Without a doubt, she had her hands full raising him, but William was a good child. Whatever mischief his mother's nature brought him into, his father's nature would always cause him to instantly confess - often before it was even carried out. Elizabeth discovered, early on, that William shared his parent's call to the sea. The toddler would constantly run off to the beach, whenever given the opportunity.

From time to time, Captain Jack Sparrow, Captain Barbossa, and the rest of the crew of the _Black Pearl_, made visits to the Turner household. Jack knew Elizabeth was more than capable of taking care of herself, but he also knew that Will would be grateful to him for ensuring that this was the case. As they had their pirating to tend to and were, additionally, embroiled in some sort of fanciful search for the legended Fountain of Youth, their visits were few and far between, no more than once or twice a year – and, when present, they seemed to always pilfer rum from one of her ships. Nevertheless, Elizabeth and William welcomed their visits. The first such took place when William was merely three months old. Jack beheld the child and wistfully muttered, "I fear this settles the eunuch matter".

William, for his part, liked Captain Jack well enough, though secretly he thought he couldn't entirely be believed, a fact that his mother was extremely amused by when he shared it with her. Gibbs held a special place with William, as he always had amazing stories to tell, including variations on those his mother told about his father.

William's father was an endlessly fascinating subject for him. From the time he was still in the womb, he had been told stories of Will. He knew everything about his father, from the time his mother discovered him on his makeshift raft, to the last time his mother saw him, right up to where he was at that very moment. William knew that his father loved him, and would be with him if he could. He also knew that he would return, to stay, just after his ninth birthday, and he quite enjoyed counting down the days until then with his mother. Until that time, William hoped to grow brave and strong, just like his father. He shared Elizabeth's fascination with pirates - but only if there were "good men" - something that he'd learned from his father. His son idolized him. Will was truly his hero, and William couldn't love and adore him more.

Ever since her curious experience in Port Royal, Elizabeth held nightly vigils with Will's heart, sharing everything about their son and her life. While she never again had an experience quite like that one, she continued to feel a sense of comfort and love after these moments. Elizabeth also constantly wrote letters to Will and had them placed aboard all of her vessels, with precise instructions that, should trouble of a life and death nature arise – be it accident, sickness, battle wound, or shipwreck – these letters were to be given to the dying, as they would guarantee safe passage into the next world, a statement not entirely untrue. The superstitious nature of pirates and sailors, combined with their knowledge of her supernatural connections, caused her crew to take these instructions quite seriously. Elizabeth simply hoped that at least one of her letters had made it to Will.

Though her heart, and body, continued to long for Will, their son was a source of constant comfort to her. He was Will's son, and she would've loved him for that, even if he had been borne of another woman. But, of course, William was her son, born of _their_ love, a fact which made her treasure him all the more. He was such a special boy, an endless source of amusement and delight. She shuddered to think what these years would have been like had she not be given the gift of his creation.

It was on the morning of his fourth birthday that Elizabeth felt it was time to show William the chest. She carried him into her bedroom, and set him down before it.

"William," she said, gently, "I need you to listen closely, for I have a new, very important story to tell you."

His eyes widened with realization. "You're gonna tell me what's in the box?" he asked, his voice all astonishment.

Elizabeth smiled. "I am," she replied. "Now, darling, you know your father is…well, different then us. In some ways he is very special."

William couldn't resist this opportunity to interject with a sampling of his vast knowledge of Will.

"He has a ship all his own," he said, proudly, "and he hasta stay on the sea to help the people who die."

"Yes, but he's special in other ways, too. His _body_ must be very special to bring those that have died to the next world."

William contemplated this.

"Oh, you mean, when he got to be Captain, and his cut got all better, and now he can't get hurt like us," he said, crossly adding, "like that time I fell on the rock and hurt my foot."

"Yes, William," Elizabeth confirmed, with a laugh. "You're right." Cautiously, she continued. "And because it can't hurt him, he gave us his heart, put inside this chest, so we'd always know how much he cares for us."

William silently looked away from his mother, over to the chest. Elizabeth knew he was a very intelligent and mature child. He had always accepted the stories of Will without question. Things of a magical and supernatural nature had always been a part of his life. She couldn't quite be sure that it was owing to the unique circumstances of his conception - with one parent immortal - but he seemed to have a special understanding of, and bond with, Will. He'd never once blamed Will for not being there with him and, as he grew, he continued to accept and appreciate their family's special circumstances. She only hoped this last and, in many ways, most difficult secret to come to terms with, wouldn't be too much for him to handle. Finally, William broke the silence.

"Wow," he said, his voice and eyes filled with awe. "Can I…Can I listen to it?"

At his mother's relieved smile and nod, he pressed his ear to the chest.

"I hear it!"

William gingerly placed a hand upon the chest, his sensitive, little fingers feeling the vibrations.

"Papa," he said, happily.

At this utterance, Will's heart skipped a beat. William placed his ear to the chest, once more. He listened very closely, then turned to his mother, his eyes exhibiting a gravity beyond his years.

"He says, "I love you, William. I love you, 'Lizbeth", 'cause that's what Papa calls you."

"Is that what he says?" Elizabeth asked, softly.

William nodded, solemnly, and Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears, her heart full of the strange combination of love and sadness that she knew so well.

"Now, William," she said, being sure to use a serious tone. "You mustn't tell others about the chest, or come touch it when I'm not around. Your father needs us to guard it for him."

William nodded, once more.

"I'll keep it safe," he said, his voice full of determination. "I'm four now. I'm big enough to do it."

From that day on, Elizabeth added William to her nightly vigils with Will's heart. Every night, William and Elizabeth would share their day and experiences with Will. Then, William would press his ear to the chest and, after a few moments time, would always offer what he swore to be his _father's_ own feelings on the subject.

* * *


	4. The Williams Turner

* * *

"Next to love, sympathy is the divinest passion of the human heart."

- Edmund Burke

* * *

Will Turner stretched, rising off his cot and regarding it for a moment. It had been a gift from his crew to mark five years of service as captain. The crew, at least half of whom were remnants from Davy Jone's reign, held Captain Turner in high esteem. He was a strong leader, but also a kind and sensitive one when the time called for it, which it often did when one's job was to ferry the newly dead. He was an all around good man, and the crew couldn't ask for more in a captain. Still, they knew that he held the position unwillingly and, though they were hardened sailors who had seen and experienced their fair share of hardship and suffering, their hearts bled for the man that clearly only wished to be reunited with his wife and child. They had hoped that their small offering, a token of the world on land, would make him feel more at ease. Their gift was greatly appreciated. After five years of resting in a hammock, a bed of his own, albeit makeshift and small, was a welcome luxury that did, indeed, remind Will of home. 

Picking up the small file he kept upon his desk, Will headed to the wall of his cabin nearest the door and etched off another tally mark to sit alongside the crowded collection. _Only 1,818 days to go, _he told himself

"Over halfway there," Will said, aloud, smiling at the wordsHe had borrowed that exact phrase from his son who had uttered those same words earlier in the day, after his mother had informed him of the milestone.

Everyday, shortly after the sun rose in Will's world, around what he imagined to be his son's bedtime, the Turner family would have their rendezvous….His son…._Their_ son. He never tired of thinking on the subject though, truthfully, he was in awe of it, despite the fact that he had known about his son's existence almost as soon as Elizabeth had.

Being Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ brought with it the restrictions that he and Elizabeth rightly considered a curse, but it also entailed special powers that, after five years, still amazed Will. The Captain's ability to instantly transport himself from one place to another was something he had witnessed Davy Jones do on numerous occasions. Will, himself, had quickly taken advantage of this convenience, using it as his mode of transportation back to the _Dutchman _those five years ago in order to prolong his time ashore with Elizabeth. At the time, he was unaware of any other powers beyond this, with the exception, of course, of his immortality.

However, he quickly learned of his possession of a special power that his predecessor had never had the opportunity to experience, for Davy Jones had hid his heart away from the world, whereas Will freely gave his to Elizabeth, its rightful owner. Will soon became aware that, whenever Elizabeth drew near to his heart, which was quite often, as she kept the chest nearby at all times, he could sense her emotions; feel what she was feeling. As time passed, he was able to hone the skill, as could soon actually hear what she was saying. Elizabeth, for her part, seemed to be completely unaware of his ability and was unable to communicate back to him. In fact, though she always kept the chest near, at that time, she had yet to actually speak directly to it. Therefore, all that Will heard were Elizabeth's musing that, from time to time, she would utter aloud. Yet, her voice, alone, was a soothing balm he was forever grateful for. It was during one of those verbal musings, while lying in bed with the chest, that Elizabeth, unknowingly, revealed to Will that she was carrying his child. It saddened him that he would not be there for the first nine years of his child's life. However, the very knowledge that he and Elizabeth had created a child, borne of their love, thrilled him and, though he would miss out on so much, he was happy that Elizabeth would no longer be alone. He only hoped that his child could forgive his absence, for Will knew all too well what it was like to grow up without a father.

As time passed, Will further discovered that, at times of extreme emotion, the communicative link though his heart grew stronger. Three months later, Will and Elizabeth shared the first of their few special "experiences", as Will took to calling them, that derived from this. Elizabeth had briefly returned to Port Royal, to their beach of all places and, naturally, was tortured by the memories. Will could feel her pain, and beckoned her to unburden it upon him. He was amazed that, somehow, she seemed to understand and began speaking to him just as if he were actually there, as if he could actually hear every word - which, in truth, he could. As she poured out her heart to Will's, his own feelings of anguish, longing, and love mingled with hers, and he found that, suddenly, he could see a vague image of her sitting upon their beach.

She wore a dress that was of the simple and free variety that she loved, but had been forbidden to her throughout her young life. Her hair was windblown about her shoulders, and her belly protruded with the presence of their child. Although her eyes were red and her face blotchy from the tears that she violently cried, Will had never seen her look more beautiful, and tears of his own stung his eyes. Moving to touch the image, he more than expected it to vanish, as a ghost, upon contact. Yet, on the contrary, somehow when he reached out but an inch, his touch stretched across their worlds, all the way to Elizabeth, herself. He could hardly contain the emotion of touching her after the long months apart. In ecstasy, he wrapped his arms tightly around her. He could feel the softness of her skin, the rise and fall of her breathing, and her hair brushing against his neck. He could even feel their child, as it met him with a welcoming kick when he placed his hand upon her belly. Then, as quickly as it came, the image vanished, and Will was unable to recapture it.

From that day on, Elizabeth began to speak to him nightly - and he continued to hear her - which was more communication between the two than he'd ever dared hope for. However, experiences such as they had on the beach were few and far between and had, in fact, only happened two more times. The very next such experience took place four months later, upon the birth of their child. Will heard the announcement of a son, witnessed the child's cries and, for a very brief instant, was able to see a hazy outline of mother and son, but it faded quickly, before he was able to touch the child for himself. The last such event occurred only the week before, on Will's five year anniversary as captain. Elizabeth had retired with the chest, and was telling Will of how much she loved him and missed him. After five years apart, she also confessed to him of her body's aching longing for his touch. Will found that his own longing was only intensified by Elizabeth's admission of hers. On this night, they were able to share a third "experience". This one, blessedly, lasted longer, and was of a much more carnal nature. Will smiled to himself as he vividly recalled the event, his body soon reacting to the memory. Sighing, he changed his train of thought back to their son.

It was clear to Will, early on, that their son - his namesake – had some special abilities of his own. Will could hear him and feel his emotions, in much the same way as he could with Elizabeth. However, William seemed to be able to reciprocate those abilities in a way that she never could. He first became aware of this when William was but a small infant. One day, during a fit of crying, Elizabeth placed the baby next to the chest, his small fingers curling around the handle. Will could immediately sense William's presence and feel his distress. His heart full of love, he whispered soft words to his son, and the boy seemed to understand and was quickly soothed. From that time onward, whenever Elizabeth was unable to calm the child, she always placed him near the chest, and it always seemed to do the trick. Elizabeth, mistakenly, imagined that Will's heartbeat was the calming influence.

As William grew from a baby into a toddler, Will had few opportunities to further investigate their strange communicative link, as Elizabeth kept the chest away from William for fear that the very active young boy might do something that would inadvertently harm his father. On the child's fourth birthday, just as the sun was setting in Will's world, and rising in Elizabeth and William's, she had reintroduced the boy to the chest and revealed to him the true nature of its contents and importance. It was on that day that Will was truly able to test his son's abilities.

The first time Will heard his son call him "Papa" sent a wave of love through him that was almost too much to bear, and he wanted nothing more that to crush the child within his embrace. All he could do, however, was make an attempt to speak back. Similar such attempts he had, long ago, learned were futile when he tried them with Elizabeth. Yet, with William, it was different. He felt his son's confusion, followed by his intense, rapt concentration. Will repeated his words, and after a moment of deliberation, he heard his son convey his emotions to Elizabeth and, although, it wasn't exactly what he had said, word-for-word, it _was_ exactly what he had been feeling.

Thus, Will learned that he and his son shared an emotional link, and could always communicate through the chest. However, his heart continued to feel pain for his wife because, while he enjoyed the ability of hearing her and William, and even speaking - in a way - with their son, she was unable to likewise understand him and receive his love. Although William diligently passed along to his mother any, and all, of Will's emotions pertaining to her, Will often doubted that she truly believed these sentiments to actually be coming from _him_ and was, instead, merely humoring their child. Will couldn't blame her. Theirs was a curious family; a very curious situation. He sighed, longing for Elizabeth, once more, before opening the door to step out on deck and begin his day.

* * *

William Turner sat on the floor of their parlor playing with the toys he had received on his birthday, a little over three months ago, that had fast become his favorites: his own little, painted, wooden family. Elizabeth had them specially commissioned for her son, at quite the cost, but she insisted that every last detail be done to perfection. She had a model of the _Flying Dutchman _made, not leaving its design to mere books or legend, but according to her own personal memories. To go along with it, she ordered the creation of a miniature William, giving the manufacturer a likeness of the boy, as well as a miniature of his mother that Elizabeth, herself, posed for. The last figure, the one she insisted the most attention be given to, was one of Will, modeled after his likeness from the painting of the two of them her father had commissioned shortly before their intended wedding day. However, in true sprit, Elizabeth insisted that all traces of finery be done away with. Her figure was to wear a simple, tasteful dress - as William preferred to see her in, always exclaiming how "pretty" she was when she wore such outfits. As for Will, she had decided that his wedding attire wouldn't do at all. Instead, with a devilish grin, she sketched a likeness of him as she had last seen him, with black boots, open shirt, pirate bandana, and gold earring. After all, his father _was _a pirate, and Elizabeth would have William know this and be proud. Indeed, he was, as the little figure of his father, his hero, was William's prized possession. He carried it with him always – at meal time, at bath time, at bed time – though, with great satisfaction, he often took it upon himself to break the rules, and separate his father from the ship. 

William always knew he was different from other children his age, although he never quite knew why. Due to his conception by an immortal father, he had special abilities that went beyond those of a normal four year old child. William had abnormally perfect health. He had never in his life had the slightest illness of any sort. He was also gifted with a wisdom and intelligence far beyond his years. All of this, coupled with the gentle sensitivity he naturally inherited from his father, made William an extremely empathetic and intuitive boy – a fact that Elizabeth realized and, at times, regretted.

William knew his mother loved him; that he was, in fact, her whole world. Yet he also knew that his mother missed his father terribly, though she always tried to hide her sadness from him. William, too, longed for Will and wished he could be there with them. However, he had never truly known him in the sense that his mother had, therefore, it seemed a lesser blow. Long before Will had ever been his Papa, or even his Mama's husband, when they were children, themselves, not all that much older than he was, they had played together and loved each other. William often thought that for his mother to be without his father must be like losing your favorite thing in the world. _Why_, he thought, _it must be like if I lost my wooden Papa…… Like if something ever happened to Mama_. He shuddered at the horrible thought and felt a wave of sympathy and pain for what his mother must be suffering.

When Elizabeth told William the truth about the chest and began to allow him to speak to it as she did, he found, to his surprise, that not only could he hear his Papa's heart, but Papa, himself. Perhaps not actually hear him, but more feel what he was feeling. Still, this newly discovered connection with his father was thrilling to William and, every night, he would tell his father _everything_. When William told him of the shells he collected, and the little crab he found inside one that he'd since taken in as a pet, he felt his father's mirth and laughter. When he told, and even demonstrated to Will, his knowledge of the alphabet, he felt his father's pride. It was a wonderful time of connection and discovery, with a new bonding experience every night.

William quickly, discovered, however, that his mother did not share the same connection, which made him feel sorrow for her all the more. _Mama can't understand Papa, as I can_, he thought. _I must tell her what he says_. This is exactly what William always did. However, though he was yet young, he possessed his mother's clever spirit, and was not easily fooled. He knew that, try as he might to convince her that these were_ Papa's_ own feelings, Mama regarded them more as sweet products of _his _imagination.

William's frustrated thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. Elizabeth always thought it a foolish pretension to have a butler and, as she was busy in the kitchen instructing the cook as to their wishes for lunch, William called out that he would answer the door. Doing so, he was pleasantly surprised.

"Cap'n Jack!" he exclaimed, with genuine excitement in his voice.

" 'ello, Mate."

* * *


	5. Thirsty

* * *

You should not see the desert simply as some faraway place of little rain……

There are many forms of thirst.

- William Langewiesche

* * *

William stepped aside to allow Jack entrance into the house, a stream of pirates following at his heals – Barbossa, Gibbs, Pintel, and Ragetti, respectively. William smiled at the presence of the most colorful characters of his acquaintance. 

Engrossed in approving the cook's list of daily meals, Elizabeth walked into the room.

"Darling, who was at the door?"

Elizabeth stopped in her tracks as she saw her guests.

Jack merely smiled.

"Jack?" Elizabeth asked, incredulously.

" 'Lizabeth," he greeted her, as only Jack could. "Might I say you're looking as fetching as ever?"

She narrowed her eyes, immediately perceiving that he was after something.

"We weren't expecting to see you for at least another six months. Have you run out of rum already?" she asked, sardonically.

"On the contrary, Mrs. Turner," Barbossa ceremoniously interjected. "We come with something to offer ye."

By now William's polite attentiveness had lost out to his playful excitement, and he bounded forward, pulling at Gibbs' leg.

"Tell me one of your stories, Mr. Gibbs," William pleaded with an eagerness in his voice that even the most hardened pirate wouldn't have been able to resist.

Gibbs smiled, pleased at the boy's preferential treatment – and always ready to spin a pirate yarn.

"What would you like to hear, lad?"

"Tell me more about my Papa."

At these words, Jack fixed Gibbs with a look that was immediately understood.

"Aye, but the best stories are told nearest to the ocean," Gibbs replied. "Come, we'll walk on the beach and I'll tell you of your father."

"And I'll make sure you're tellin' it right," Pintel grumpily interposed, annoyed that _his_ storytelling skills were being overlooked.

William looked to his mother, who nodded in approval, before he began to follow Gibbs, Pintel, and Ragetti out the door.

"Wait!" he said, running back into the room to retrieve his favorite toys. He returned to their sides burdened down by his boat and wooden family.

"Is that the _Dutchman_?" Ragetti asked, impressed by the craftsmanship of the toys.

William nodded, excitedly. "Mmhmm," he said, picking up the wooden people, one by one, from the deck of the ship. "And this one is me. This one is Mama. And _this one_ is my Papa."

"Oooh, can I play?" Ragetti asked.

"All right," William replied. "But if your eye falls out, I'm not chasing after it – _again_."

Ragetti frowned slightly. "Never could get any of 'em to fit right."

At this, William burst into peels of laughter, and the quartet headed out to the beach.

Jack watched the boy leave the room. "He looks more and more like the whelp every day," he commented.

The smile Elizabeth wore as she watched her son's interchange with the pirates faded away as she regarded Jack and Barbossa.

"I thought you were out chasing immortality, Jack," she said, flippantly. "What brings you to my doorstep?"

"Not chasing, luv, _finding_."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes in disbelief. "You don't really expect me to believe such a fanciful tale."

"Come now, Mrs. Turner," Barbossa replied. "After all ye've lived through, tales of the Fountain are the easiest to believe."

Elizabeth couldn't help but agree with his statement. Still, she turned to Jack skeptically.

"Should the Fountain _happen_ to exist, then why are you here, instead of off in Tortuga, mixing it with your rum?"

Jack's mouth turned up in a hint of a smile, still pleased to spar with such a worthy opponent.

"Because, my King, I need the key."

"What key?"

"The walls to the Fountain are barred," Barbossa explained, impatiently. "We need the key to get in."

Elizabeth eyed the two men suspiciously. "And what has this to do with me?"

" 'The key to immortality lies with the Ferrier of Mortal Souls'," Jack quoted.

For a mere moment, Elizabeth's brow furrowed in confusion, before understanding washed over her features.

"Will," she whispered, wistfully looking out to the ocean.

"Aye," Jack replied. "Dear William has the key, and we're going to find him."

At this, Elizabeth's head snapped up, her attention immediately returned to Jack.

"I don't - " she broke off, a new understanding lighting her face.

"That's right," Jack said. "The _Dutchma_n's captain resides in the Land of the Dead, it's true, but - "

"But," Barbossa interrupted, "we can find him in much the same way that we - "

"Retrieved me from the Locker," Jack finished.

"But I'm not allowed to go there," Elizabeth replied, "else I'd be with Will now."

"Being a mortal, you're not allowed to _stay _there," Barbossa answered, "but, as ye very plainly know, we've all three gone there – and returned to tell the tale."

"You _can_ see William again, if only briefly. But wouldn't it be worth it?" Jack asked.

Elizabeth looked off to the ocean again, completely lost in thought.

Jack watched her carefully. "What has it been? Just over five years?...That's a long time to go between drinks, luv. I imagine by now you must be terribly thirsty."

Not missing his meaning, Elizabeth scowled at Jack, ready to give him a thorough setting down, when images of her and Will entangled together on the beach rose, unbidden, to her mind.

Seeing her expression, Jack and Barbossa exchanged a triumphant look.

"I wonder...Could I?" Elizabeth asked absentmindedly, more to herself than anyone else. A private smile began to play across her lips. "I - "

She stopped suddenly, her countenance changing completely.

Jack followed her gaze out the window to see what had postponed his victory, only to spy her son wondering across their field of vision alongside Gibbs.

"William….What was I thinking," she admonished herself for her selfishness. "I can't go."

"Bring the whelp with you," Jack said.

Elizabeth's voice suddenly turned to ice. "I will _not _put him in danger."

"No harm will come to the boy, Mrs. Turner," Barbossa offered. "Ye can rest assured of that."

"You forget, your boy's parentage," Jack replied. "He's the son of the Pirate King and the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_."

Gibbs entered the room in time to catch the end of Jack's statement.

"Aye, 'tis true," Gibbs added. "Due to the lad's conception by an immortal, his health will be abnormally hearty, his life exceptionally long. Have you not noticed this already? The boy's mind is as sharp as a razor."

Indeed, Elizabeth had observed this in her son from a very young age.

Nevertheless, Jack could see that she still was not ready to give in. Closing the distance between them, he cleverly switched tactics. If he couldn't play on her desire for Will, he _could_ play on her love for him.

"Will deserves to see his son," he stated, simply.

Her face was full of indecision. Still, with this argument, Jack knew he had already won.

"The boy would love the trip," Gibbs offered.

"Trip?" William asked, entering the room, his eyes wide with excitement. "Where are we going?"

"I…..Jack and Barbossa wish to take us……." Here she faltered, debating in her mind whether or not she should tell her son the truth. "They wish to take us on an ocean voyage."

"On the_ Pearl_?" William asked, incredulously, already planning what he should take. Seeing that his mother hadn't quite agreed, he faltered. "You promised I could ride on a boat," he reminded her.

"Yes, I did, when you turn six but, William, you're only four," she replied, her voice heavy with concern.

"_Please_, Mama," he begged.

Elizabeth looked down into his pleading eyes, eyes so like his father's, eyes that she could refuse nothing. Her son's desire added to her own was a burden too great for even the Pirate King to bear.

Jack smiled smugly, triumphant at last.

"To World's End?" he asked.

Sighing, Elizabeth matched his smile.

"To Will."


	6. Hope

* * *

"Hope can make the present moment less difficult to bear….

If we believe that tomorrow will be better, we can bear a hardship today."

- Thich Nhat Hanh

* * *

Once Elizabeth decided that she and William would travel with Jack to World's End, she spent the remainder of the afternoon and evening quickly, yet carefully, gathering the necessary items they would need for an extended voyage at sea. She was well aware of the length of their journey and the hardships they might encounter. This time around she was determined to be more prepared, for her son's sake. There would be no running out of water, and no shivering in the snow and ice, not if she had anything to say about it. 

The group set out at dawn the following morning. William was absolutely ecstatic. He loved the sea long before he could even utter the word, and had spent most of his life begging his mother to take him out on it. Many a time, she had allowed him to board the _Empress_, or one of her other ships, when they were in port but, up until now, she'd been very firm about the fact that neither one of them would go out to sea until he was at least six years old.

Though he didn't understand it, William was thrilled by Elizabeth's breach of the rules. The only thing that came close to his love of the sea was his love of swords, yet another treasured commodity that his mother insisted, for his safety's sake, must be put off until he was older. When he was finally granted access to the chest, these two loves were one of the first things William shared with his father. Much to his disappointment, he was surprised to find that even a strong and brave pirate, like his father, was inclined to agree with his mother on the subject!

However, now that he was at sea, he was determined to take every advantage. His father's side of his nature predisposed him to be ever industrious and resolute in helping the crew in whatever way he could for, though he was but a small boy, he knew he had much to offer. At the same time, his mother's side of his nature inclined him to be continually curious about every little piece and mechanism aboard the ship - and not the least bit shy about asking anyone, and everyone, all of his questions. The end result was that, at all times, William was quite underfoot and, though some were more loathe to admit it than others, everyone aboard enjoyed the opportunity to play seasoned veteran to the novice little boy.

Elizabeth, for her part, was enjoying the voyage every bit as much as her son. She hadn't quite realized how much she'd missed the sea, after five years ashore. Being out on the ocean again was like rediscovering an old friend. Yet, as contented as she had always been to work and live alongside the crew, she was, nevertheless, glad that she'd learned enough from her past sailing experience to know both the good and the bad of life at sea. With this in mind, Elizabeth had seen to it that she and her son would have all the necessary comforts onboard and, prior to leaving port, had coerced Jack and Barbossa into conceding the use of the captain's cabin - the only private room - to herself and William.

As their second day at sea came to a close, mother and son found themselves happily snuggling in for the night.

"I know it's been an exciting day, William," Elizabeth said, sitting down upon the cot beside her son, "but you must try to get some sleep. We still have a long voyage ahead of us."

His eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought. Elizabeth couldn't contain her laughter as she watched her son fairly squirming with anticipation at the idea of adventure and time spent at sea. Often, William was every inch his father's son but, in this instance, she couldn't help but be reminded of herself as a child, although she now realized that Will had always loved the sea every bit as much as she did but, for propriety's sake, had felt the need to hide it. Gazing back down at her son, her own eyes bright with happiness, she gave in to her impulse – even if it did mean further delaying his bedtime - and began tickling his sides.

"You know, darling," Elizabeth said, her voice mixing with peels of her son's laughter, "I told you we were going on a voyage at sea, but you've been so happy sailing on the _Pearl_ and helping the crew that you haven't yet asked me where it is that we're going."

William took a moment to catch his breath and consider what she'd just said. "Where are we going, Mama?"

She lent a touch of the dramatic to her voice for her son's benefit. "We are going to see some of the exciting places from my stories."

His eyes grew large. "Like where?" he asked.

"We shall sail through the Caribbean, eventually stopping in Singapore," she paused for a moment, in thought. "Tai Huang and the _Empress_ should be in port by the time we arrive."

William smiled at the notion of re-encountering another one of his mother's colorful friends and, at last, seeing for himself this Singapore that always sounded so full of mystery and danger in her stories.

"Then we'll come back home?" he asked, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"No. We're going much farther than Singapore."

Elizabeth looked down at her son carefully, contemplating how much she should tell him. After all, though she was willing to literally go to the end of the world to find Will, there was no guarantee that they actually would be able to locate him before they must return to the world of the living. She knew Jack and Barbossa were every bit as desperate to find Will as she was, albeit for different reasons, but even they could not skirt around the rules of the Land of the Dead. Mortals simply were not allowed to stay there for any length of time – not if they wished to remain amongst the living, and no one aboard the _Black Pearl _had any wish to give up their life anytime soon. For most, that was the entire point of the voyage. Thus, she knew the search for Will would be frantic, yet necessarily short. Should she give her son the hope of finally meeting his father when she knew there was a chance that hope would be cruelly dashed?

William continued to look up at his mother, terribly intent on whatever else she would tell him about their grand adventure.

"But that is enough for tonight," she continued, deciding to keep Will out of it for the time being. "I think it's best if you try to sleep now, love."

"All right, Mama," he replied obediently, turning on his side.

Elizabeth rose from the cot, preparing to blow out his candle.

"Wait!" William cried. "I can't sleep yet. I didn't talk to Papa."

Elizabeth smiled. "No, darling. We mustn't talk to Papa, not tonight - not the entire time we're on this voyage."

William was shocked at this. Not talk to Papa? This had been an integral part of their nightly routine for the past three months. "Why not?" he asked, full of confusion and a little alarm. "Didn't you bring the chest?"

From his earliest memory, his mother had the chest near her at all times. The very thought that she would leave it behind was more than his young mind could comprehend.

"Yes, William, I brought the chest," she replied, relieved that this information seemed to reassure him. "But remember, it's our job to guard the chest, to protect your father. We mustn't take it out. We mustn't let anyone know where it is, or even that we've brought it."

"Not even Captain Jack or Mr. Gibbs?"

"_No one_."

William didn't quite understand this, but he was prepared to obey. "All right, if it's to keep Papa safe."

Elizabeth blew out the candle in her hand, brushing aside a stray lack of her son's hair.

"But I'll miss talking to Papa," William added, with a yawn.

Elizabeth's eyes softened, filling with tears. William loved his father so much. In the past months, he had grown utterly attached to the chest, his only tangible link to his absent, but beloved, parent. She sighed, her heart suddenly full of anguish. She knew all too well what it was like to be without loved ones, to miss your parents, your husband – virtually everyone who'd ever meant anything to you. Her suffering was a necessary part of what it took to break Will's curse and ensure they were reunited as a family once and for all. She would endure whatever it took to free Will. Nevertheless, it seemed unfair that their innocent young son must suffer the same sad longing….Perhaps he was entitled to a hope, even an unsure one.

"William," she began uncertainly, sitting by his side.

Something about the way his mother said his name alerted him to the seriousness of what was to follow. Shaking off his sleepiness, he sat up in bed, inching closer to his mother's face in the darkness.

"Would you like to know where we're really going?"

Wordlessly, he nodded.

"We're going to try to find your father."

"_Papa_?"

A momentary silence fell between the two, as Elizabeth closely observed her son. Astonished, little William, mouth agape, finally attempted speech. "But you said he has to stay with his ship - far, far away - in a world different than ours." Having heard the stories countless times, he was sure that was how it went, and was utterly confused at this change to all he'd known.

"Yes, he must stay with his ship, and he is in a world far, far away. That's why we must go to him - all the way to the end of our world and into his." Elizabeth paused, snuggling William closer to her before softly continuing. "I know this is hard to understand, even for someone as grown as I, but that _is_ where we're going. And if we're very lucky, _perhaps_ we may get to see Papa, if only for a short time….Would you like that, William? To see your papa, even though we must leave him again?"

"Yes," he answered without hesitation, his voice full of awe.

"I'm glad," she answered, kissing his forehead. "Now go to sleep, my love, for we're on our way to Papa even as we speak.

Smiling, William rolled back onto his side, closing his eyes contentedly.

* * *


	7. Playing Along

* * *

"You have to learn the rules of the game….

And then you have to play better than anyone else."

- Albert Einstein

* * *

After only ten short minutes, William was fast asleep. It was still relatively early in the evening and, rather than preparing for bed herself, Elizabeth quietly slipped out the door, taking a stroll around deck. 

The breeze was cool and soothing upon her skin, the light sea spray like a soft kiss. Looking up at the star-filled sky, Elizabeth wondered what Will was doing at that very moment. She knew that while it was night in her world, day was just beginning in his. Beyond that, she knew very little about what his job actually entailed.

Turning at the sound of a screech behind her, she saw that the two Jacks still carried on their adversarial relationship, the hairier of the two seeking refuge upon Barbossa's shoulder. Had her son witnessed this, she was sure he would've been in hysterics but, seeing Jack, her mind was too occupied with unpleasant matters to find humor in the situation. Standing straight, head held high, she made her way over to where he stood, alone, at the helm.

"Jack," Elizabeth began, "I'm no fool."

"A fact of which I'm well aware."

She wasn't certain if his comment was meant as a compliment or an insult. Nevertheless, Elizabeth continued. "Yes, well, I'm not so naive as to believe that Captain Jack Sparrow has gone out of his way to bring my son and I to find Will for strictly altruistic reasons."

"Lizzie," he replied, all indignation, "I'm deeply hurt by your lack of trust. After all, luv, by who's hand is your dear William still around for you to find?"

Jack hit his target with this remark and, while her guard was always up when dealing with either Barbossa or Jack, Elizabeth was immediately struck with a wave of guilt. Perhaps she had been wrong to doubt his motivation. Jack had indisputably proven that, deep down, he was a good man. Moreover, what he said was completely true. She had him to thank for Will's life, for her own life and, by extension, for their son's life.

Elizabeth looked up at him repentantly. "You're right…. I'm sorry, Jack."

"Think nothin' of it," he answered, looking blankly out to sea. After a pause, he continued. "But, now that you mention it, there is something you might do."

Elizabeth let out an exasperated sigh, annoyed with herself for having fallen so easily into his trap.

"Dare I ask what?"

"It's true, by all accounts and purposes, your husband is in my debt and should happily hand over the key. Still, I haven't had much luck with captains of that particular vessel… I thought it best not to enter into such a precarious situation without a proper good-luck charm, as it were. Should Will fail to see the logic of my argument, that's where you can be of use to me."

"How?" she asked carefully.

"Persuasion – something, as I recall, you quite excel at. Of course, the good Captain would know better than I. I imagine your charms are much more enjoyable when death doesn't immediately follow."

Elizabeth glared at him, choosing to ignore his barb and go straight to the heart of the matter.

"You wish me to seduce my husband in order to obtain the key?"

To Elizabeth, the concept was laughable, and she very nearly did. Her relationship with Will was completely guileless – something Jack would never understand. While she may have employed such tactics on other men, she never would with Will. It wouldn't work even if she chose to. The two had always had a special connection, an ability to candidly perceive the other's thoughts, feelings, and wishes without a single word. Whenever Elizabeth wanted something of him, Will knew it instantly, at one glance, long before she had the chance to ask it.

Even should she wish to - which she never had - she was utterly incapable of manipulating him. Her ability to so easily manipulate other men rested upon the fact that they had no affect upon her. With Will, however, it had always been quite to the contrary. Her powers of seduction over Will were easily equaled by _his_ powers of seduction over _her_. That was part of the beauty of their relationship. Neither one was in a position of control, for they each desired, valued, and loved one another identically, making their marriage the ultimate equal partnership.

"Whatever means you employ are entirely up to you," Jack replied, in answer to the question Elizabeth forgot she'd asked. "All that matters to me is that I have control of the Fountain."

"Will is a good man, Jack. He always does what he believes to be right, and he can be absolutely resolute when the situation calls for it. Should he decide, for whatever reason, not to give you the key, I doubt that even I could change his mind."

Jack gave her a devilish grin, making it abundantly clear that he had no doubt in her ability to 'persuade'. "Five years is a long time for any man," he said simply. "What say you, Elizabeth? Shall we continue on this course, or shall I turn the _Pearl _around and drop you back at your ever so domesticated abode?"

Elizabeth had no interest in keys, fountains, immortality, or Jack's crude plans - and she certainly had no intention of deceiving her husband. Nevertheless, she desperately wanted to see Will. If that meant playing along with Jack, for a time, then so be it.

"There's no need to alter our course," she answered definitively.

Jack regarded her skeptically. In all honesty, he hadn't intended to divulge his plan so soon, and he certainly hadn't expected her to agree with so little argument. Of course, he also hadn't been entirely truthful with her, but that was something she needn't know, yet. Still, he couldn't resist the opportunity for one last verbal spar.

"Has motherhood so tamed you, then, that you give up that easily?"

Elizabeth snorted indelicately. "You know me far too well for that," she countered. "But five years _is_ a long time. Perhaps you underestimate my….'thirst', I believe you called it."

Jack gave her a wicked grin. "We continue to World's End then?"

"Which you never really doubted," Elizabeth replied over her shoulder, already on her way back to her cabin.

Once alone, they smiled to themselves, each secure in the notion that they had successfully duped the other.

* * *


	8. The Storm

* * *

Like father, like son.

- Chinese Proverb

* * *

The storm came in the middle of the night, and it was a ferocious one. Elizabeth knew Jack must have seen it coming, though he hadn't warned her, and she inwardly cursed herself, a once experienced sailor – the Pirate King, no less – for failing to recognize the signs. Yet, more than five years had passed since she'd last been at sea, and her mind had been too occupied with thoughts of her husband and son to pay much attention to such a trifling thing as the weather. She viciously chided herself for such capriciousness, for she knew quite well that, when one was in the middle of the ocean, the weather was not a trivial matter. 

Elizabeth never once feared for the fate of the _Pearl_. This was the ship that had been to the Locker and back, completely unscathed, and with Jack and Barbossa on board to add to the bargain, she knew there'd be no shipwreck in their future. However, she worried for William, who hadn't yet experienced so much as rough weather aboard a ship, let alone a storm of this caliber.

The wind was fierce outside their cabin and the thunder deafening, as the _Pearl_ shifted violently, the towering waves rising up and crashing down upon the ship, doing their best to drag her back to the ocean's depth. Yet, despite the drama unfolding around them, Elizabeth couldn't help but smile as she regarded the still form of her son stretched out upon their cot. Truly, he was a boy with the sea is his veins. There was no other explanation for how William could sleep soundly through the tempest that raged outside. She gave him a gentle kiss upon the forehead as she fastened the last button on her coat.

Regardless of the collective experience of the men on board, she knew that in a storm like this every last hand was needed, and every man was expected to pull his weight. Being a woman never had, and never would, stop her from doing the same. After one last look to ensure that William was safe, she opened the door and slipped out as quickly as possible, so as not to disturb the sleeping boy inside.

Stepping out on deck, Elizabeth quickly discovered that, though she would refuse to ever admit it, five years ashore had made her a bit rusty. She'd realized too late that, while there are some things one never quite forgets, that didn't mean she wouldn't be out of practice. In her haste to be on deck with the men, she hadn't properly judged the force of the wind, which slammed against her body the instant she set foot out of her cabin, and it took all of her strength to push the door closed once again.

Nevertheless, as she'd expected, the crew welcomed the additional hands, knowing she was no shrinking violet – and not really caring if she had been. She immediately joined their ranks, taking her part in the battle alongside the men. This was, indeed, a battle, a sailor's favorite kind of battle: the crew and the ship pitted against the sea and the elements. Most of the men never felt more alive than they did at moments like this - meeting the sea's challenge – and some laughed even as they struggled to maintain their footing.

Despite the fact that she was wet-through, Elizabeth was beginning to enjoy the battle herself, for she was always at her best when faced with a challenge. The ocean slammed its fist painfully against her flank, filling her nose and eyes with salty water. Nevertheless, she felt invigorated, convinced that the sea was merely heralding her return.

At that moment, she caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye. She registered a brief sensation of confusion as to why she should notice this slight stirring in the midst of the chaos around her. Filled with a sudden sense of alarm, she spun about.

Looking ever so tiny and fragile, a poor match for the raging elements, William stood regarding his mother. He opened his mouth to speak, but it was immediately filled with water, as his small body was pummeled by water from both the skies and the angry sea. Nonetheless, coughing and sputtering, he began to make his way across the length of the ship to his mother.

"William!" Elizabeth frantically screamed over the rumble of thunder, as another enormous wave fell upon the deck, momentarily knocking Cotton from his place at the wheel. "Stop! Go back inside - NOW!"

In a rush of panic, she ran toward her son, hoping to sweep him back inside their cabin before a wave took him overboard. She had only moved but two steps when the sail boom flew towards her, sweeping out over the ocean and narrowly missing carrying her tiny frame along with it. Elizabeth was undeterred, faltering not even for a millisecond in her rush to her son's side.

After what seemed to her to be an eternity but, in actuality, was only a matter of seconds, she reached William, pulling him roughly back inside the cabin and slamming the door. Once engulfed in the shelter, she set the boy away from her, examining him for signs of harm, though he had only been exposed to the elements for a few moments' time. Still, her mother's heart failed to be swayed by such rationality.

At length, pleased that William was now safe and free from harm, Elizabeth sighed heavily, closing her eyes. The realization of what _might_ have happened to William - and what _nearly_ happened to her - came crashing down upon her shoulders. Her body abruptly gave way to shock, and she collapsed down upon her knees. Drawing in a long, soothing breath in an attempt to still her pounding heart and calm her nerves, she heard a small whimper and felt a tiny hand upon her cheek.

Immediately, her trembling became secondary, as she looked up into the tear-streaked face of her son. She was instantly alarmed. He was crying. Something the boy rarely did. In fact, the last time she could recall him shedding tears was over a year ago when she'd found him hanging precariously from the top shelf of the cabinet in her office. He'd climbed there in search of one of his great loves: the sword his father had made for his mother. She'd quickly plucked him down and sent him to his room to await his punishment, for he knew very well that swords were strictly off limits. Once she'd settled her rattled nerves, she'd gone up to his room, only to discover him in the throws of violent sobbing – not from fear of what she might do to him, he'd later told her, but from the shame of knowing he'd done something wrong and disappointed his mother.

Elizabeth reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. "William, my darling," she began, her voice heavy with love, "are you all right?"

"Yes, Mama," he replied, barely above a whisper. He hated to cry. He _never_ did - but his mother also never yelled at him. For her to have done so now must have meant that he had done something truly awful. He paused to sniff, and then continued. "I'm sorry, Mama. But I wasn't afraid of the storm…..I wanted to help you."

Elizabeth looked into her son's chocolate brown eyes. They were terribly distressed and full of sadness at the notion that he had somehow failed her. While he had his mother's adventurous spirit, like Will, he was always eager to please Elizabeth - and always devastated when he felt he hadn't. With the perception that mothers have, she knew instantly that his anguish steamed from the thought that she was upset with him.

Smiling softly, Elizabeth took William into her arms, setting him gently upon her lap.

"And you did help me," she reassured him. "If you hadn't called out to me when you did, I would have been struck by the boom and, more than likely, swept out to sea."

Despite his determination to be the strong man in her life in his father's unwilling absence, William couldn't help but give a little shudder in his mother's arms at the thought that she was nearly taken from him.

Elizabeth rocked him gently, the pair dripping water onto the floor of their cabin, while the storm continued to rage outside. Hearing her son sniff again, she reached down and dried his tears, smoothing his loose, dark curls away from his face.

"But I wasn't swept away, William," she said soothingly. "I wasn't lost, because _you_ saved me."

She watched his brow furrow in contemplation as he took in this information. All at once, with every trace of sadness now gone, he looked excitedly up at her.

With a smile upon his lips and his eyes wide with pride, William exclaimed, "I'm just like Papa!"

Elizabeth matched his smile, the same pride shining in her eyes – for both of the men in her life.

* * *

**AN:** I've nothing earth shattering to add. I only want to thank everyone who has taken the time to review my story. Your comments are always appreciated and excitedly anticipated. 


	9. Their Island

**AN**: Thank you, again, for all of your reviews. They really do encourage me to keep at it. I hope you will allow me a bit of a creative "flashback" in this chapter. I generally try to stay away from that short of thing but, in this case, I couldn't resist.

* * *

"Missing someone gets easier every day. Though it's one day further from the

last time you saw each other, it's one day closer to the next time you will."

- Anonymous

* * *

They weathered the storm as Elizabeth knew they would. Yet, even the mighty _Black Pearl _was not completely invincible. She had sustained damage significant enough to require immediate repairs. As they were only a few days sail from home, Elizabeth feared they would have to turn back. However, as it turned out, they were nearer to Shipwreck Cove. Thus, five years later, Elizabeth, Jack, Barbossa, and company found themselves returning to the infamous island. 

Sailing into Shipwreck Cove, Elizabeth was instantly reminded of a different life and time, and was filled with a sense of longing so powerful it was almost tangible. Still, she found it impossible to be melancholy when she regarded her son. William was fascinated by everything he saw, for he knew the very things he beheld were the stuff of legends. The _Pearl _docked in Shipwreck City to undergo her much needed repairs, conveniently, giving Elizabeth and William the opportunity for a welcome excursion. With strict instructions from Jack that the _Black Pearl _would be leaving at dawn the following morning, with or without Elizabeth and her son, the pair disembarked on a sightseeing tour.

Shipwreck City was a haven for pirates and, in his short lifetime, William had never been more thrilled. Walking through the city, he encountered many pirates, the likes of which he had seen all of his life. Yet, what made this special was that here he not only saw individual, largely male pirates, but their families, as well. It was enlightening for the little boy to encounter other "pirate families", ones that he imagined were very similar to his own. Seeing them in such a provincial, domesticated light made pirates seem less like heroes and villains to William, and more like ordinary people who just happened to make their living upon the seas. Of course, pirates were still pirates and, while this was certainly no Tortuga, Elizabeth kept William close to her side at all times.

She needn't have worried, however, as pirates near and far had heard the legend of the child that was born of the supernatural captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ and the Pirate King. Those that recognized Elizabeth instantly realized that the boy with her must be the child in question, and they were eager to lay eyes on him, curious if he possessed any of his father's otherworldly powers. However, despite their curiosity and hardened existences, every pirate worth his salt knew it was best to make no trouble with the _Flying Dutchman'_s captain - or his family. Even though they knew this new captain was far more compassionate than the last, no one was willing to take any chances. Thus, looking was as far as any dared go.

William, however, was oblivious to all the special attention he received, so fixated was he on the places from his stories that had suddenly come to life before his eyes. His mother showed him the meeting hall where she presided as Pirate King. She showed him the fabled Pirate Code, and introduced him to Captain Teague. William thought him a peculiar man, and how stranger still it must be to have him for a father. Perhaps, he reasoned, that went a long way toward explaining why Captain Jack was the way that he was.

As the afternoon dwindled into early evening, Elizabeth hired a sailing vessel to take William out into the bay. There he saw the very waters where the epic battle between the pirates and the EITC had taken place - and where his Papa had emerged from the waters victorious, as the new captain of the _Flying Dutchman_. Though she knew it would be painful, Elizabeth could not resist making one last stop to a nearby island she remembered so well, the tropical paradise where she and Will had spent their harshly abbreviated honeymoon.

William had no clue as to the significance of the particular beach they landed upon, nor did he care. He merely relished the opportunity to splash in the waves and play amongst the sand. Elizabeth, on the other hand, observed neither the ocean nor the sand. Her mind only saw memories of what once had been.

With a sigh, she sank down upon her knees. Elizabeth vividly recalled sitting on this very same sand, in much the same way, those five years ago, having just watched her husband sail away into another world. She had sat on their beach, so very alone, with the promise of ten long, lonely years threatening to engulf her and drive her mad. Even now, she could still taste the horrible desperation; feel the terrible sensation of being so utterly lost. Yet, her heart cried out, not everything about that day had been full of pain and sadness. In fact, much of it had been indescribably lovely…..

_They lie entwined on the sand, their bodies still joined, both knowing their time together was drawing to a close, and neither one ready to let go._

"_My Elizabeth," Will whispered breathlessly, nestling his face into the crook of her neck, as their breathing slowly evened out. _

_Long before they had ever touched as lovers, they had each awakened feelings inside of the other that neither one ever imagined they could feel. The days leading up to their ill-fated wedding had been a lesson in endurance for both, as they struggled to maintain their chastity. Now that they were finally husband and wife, the feelings that were long ago awakened had, at last, been wonderfully, gloriously, and repeatedly satisfied. _

_Elizabeth lazily trailed her fingernail along Will's spine, causing him to tremble in her arms. She had lost track of how long they had been on their beach, or how many times they had made love. The only thing she was certain of was that this was truly ecstasy. This was heaven, a heaven she never wanted to end. Yet, she knew it must. _

_She hugged Will closer to her, softly kissing his ear, as a sigh escaped her lips. _

"_How will I survive without you? Without this? Without us?" _

_He pulled away, ever so slightly, to look into her eyes which were now glistening with tears. Fluidly, he reversed their positions, so that she now lay atop his chest._

"_You shall," Will replied, softly stroking her hair, "just as I, because we must. We will overcome this obstacle, as we have overcome all the others." _

"_Ten years is such a long time," Elizabeth answered._

"_It is, Elizabeth," Will said, his voice immeasurably tender, "but the memory of our love will comfort us, and the hope of our future together will sustain us."_

_A single tear slid down her check, which Will instantly kissed away. Elizabeth could not help but smile at this. It was such a symbol of their entire relationship. Whenever she was sad, lonely, or in need, Will was always there for her. If he said everything would be all right then, somehow, she knew it would be._

_Seeing Elizabeth smile, Will immediately returned it, and all painful thoughts and anguished feelings disappeared, not to return again until the sun slipped past the horizon._

Back in the present, once more, Elizabeth smiled as she watched a handful of sand sift through her fingers.

"Like time," she uttered pensively.

She _had_ survived. Will had been right. She truly had no idea where she had found the strength to go on, and how she made it this far; starting from scratch yet, somehow, managing to set up a prosperous and comfortable existence. Of course, the remarkable life that she and Will had unknowingly created had a lot to do with her survival. Thank God she hadn't been alone all those years. She'd had their little miracle to comfort and cheer her, her daily reminder of Will, and their love.

Glancing up to locate the object of her musings, she saw their son darting across the nearby rocks. With an impish smile, her heart recalled her own dalliance upon those very rocks, and the loving caresses of rough, yet gentle, blacksmith's hands…..pirate's hands. Suddenly, Elizabeth found herself helpless to stem the flow of tears down her cheeks. Only, at this sunset, they were not tears of sadness, but tears of joy. She had endured. Their wait was more than half over, their suffering more than half finished. Their happy ending was closer now than ever before, and soon their broken family would be reunited again.

Elizabeth wiped her tears away with a smile. She had so much to anticipate, so much happiness still ahead of her. Hope was, indeed, a beautiful thing. Moreover, she had the very real possibility of a temporary reunion within her grasp, sooner than either of them had ever imagined.

True enough, Will could not return to her for another four years and nine months' time. Nevertheless, if there was a way that she and their son could come to him, she was determined to find it. Each day of their voyage, she heard Will's words repeating over and over again in her heart.

"_Keep a weather eye on the horizon……….. Keep a weather eye on the horizon." _

For more than five years' time, she had, and she would continue to do so. Yet, now, she did not merely watch the horizon; she sailed into it and, here, sitting on their beach, she was more certain than ever before that the distant horizon was leading her straight home to Will.

* * *


	10. Silence

* * *

"There are times when silence has the loudest voice"

- Leroy Brownlow

* * *

Will Turner stood at the helm of the _Flying Dutchman _looking out to the horizon and wondering if Elizabeth was somewhere in her world doing the same. He had been captain now for almost six years, and found that he could easily perform his job, in his sleep if need be. He spent his time as Captain traveling from World's End to the Far Shore, from the Far Shore back to World's End, endlessly roaming the stretch between worlds. He learned early on that when a person died at sea, the instant life slipped away, the soul automatically materialized into the realm that Will occupied, instantly appearing at the edge of the portal of the mortal world, which Will recognized as the place that he and Elizabeth had fallen into when the Hai Peng went over the waterfall at World's End. 

Immediately following the death of Davy Jones, Will had found his new duty to be simple enough, but relentless. There were countless numbers of lost souls, long neglected by Jones, for Will to harvest. Adding the newly deceased to the backlog of souls, it took Will and his crew nearly a year to clear the waters. Once that had been accomplished, all of the souls safely crossed over to the Far Shore, Will found his job much less relentless. In fact, from time to time, the _Flying Dutchman _even needed to anchor idly near World's End, waiting for a new group of souls to ferry across. The newly deceased were always in boats, much like the one that Will had seen Governor Swann in all those years before. He'd found that those poor souls who had so eerily clogged the waters before were ones that had long been lost, floating aimlessly - in some cases for years - with no one to ferry them to the other side. Now that Will was the captain, he was determined that no soul need ever be lost again.

It was a macabre business that he was in, there was no denying, and dealing with death on a daily basis could weigh heavy on a man, especially when encountering souls who were not yet ready to accept their own death. Yet, though it could be difficult and depressing, Will keenly felt the importance and true purpose of his work. Had he not been forcibly separated from Elizabeth and their son, he would have more than likely found the work quite rewarding. Will's kind, empathetic sprit perfectly suited him for the task. He seemed to have a sixth sense about recognizing those that were not yet ready to let go and move him. He readily extended to them the opportunity to serve as a part of his crew. However, unlike Davy Jones, Will never sought to make them suffer, and there was, in fact, no official length of duty. Once someone accepted service with the crew, they took on the unique qualities of those tied to the ship. Yet, once that person found they were ready to cross over, Will happily released them for their articles, and ferried them to the Far Shore.

What happened to souls once they stepped off the _Flying Dutchman_ and unto the docks of the Far Shore had always been a mystery to Will, for he and the crew members - who hovered somewhere between life and death - were not allowed to set foot onto the Far Shore. Therefore, Will found himself as unqualified now as in his mortal life to answer the deep preponderances of Heaven and Hell that all decent, moral men have from time to time. Will's duties solely entailed seeing souls safely from one world to the next, and he did his job impeccably.

At the moment, however, his job was not the burning concern that consumed him both day and night. In fact, though he was currently on his way back from seeing the latest crop of souls safely disembark at the Far Shore, Will's mind hadn't been on his work for the past five months, two weeks, and three days. That was how long it had been since he had last heard from Elizabeth and William. Their nightly habit of sharing their day with the Dead Man's Chest, Will's means of contact with them, had abruptly stopped with no explanation. In all honesty, Will was terrified. He tried to console himself with the thought that Elizabeth was far too busy raising their precocious, nearly five year old, son to take the time to bare her feelings to the Chest - especially considering that she had no idea that Will could actually hear her and lived for those moments, for knowledge of her life as well as to simply hear her voice. Yet, Will knew this had been Elizabeth's nightly ritual since only five months after he'd left. For her to suddenly end the habit now, so soon after she'd allowed their son to share the experience, seemed highly unlikely. Additionally, William _could_ communicate with his father, and knew full well that Will heard everything they said to the Chest. This meant, Will reasoned, that even should Elizabeth no longer wish to carry on the tradition of speaking to his heart, their son would insist they did.

Since it was so unexplainable, Will had to admit that this abrupt end of communication was extremely troubling. It was the first time in his ten years sentence that he truly felt completely cut off from Elizabeth. In addition to being a lonely and sad time, Will was plagued with constant worry that something terrible had befallen Elizabeth and their son. From his first day as captain, Will had always had the vague worry in the back of his mind that he might someday find Elizabeth's soul amongst those he ferried. However, once she'd found out about her pregnancy and vowed to stay ashore until William was six, Will dismissed the thought from his mind. Indeed, in the five-plus months of silence, Will had not encountered either his wife's or his son's soul. Yet, his troubled mind knew that this did not negate the possibility that something tragic had happened to them both upon _land_, for the captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ only ferried those who died at sea. What became of the souls of those who died upon land, Will did not know. As time ticked on, bringing Will ever closer to his happy ending with Elizabeth and their son, the continued lack of word from them made Will fear that such an ending might be forever denied them.

The crew noticed the change in his countenance and, though Will's father was the only person he shared these fears with, the rest of the _Dutchman's_ crew easily guessed what had their captain so very troubled. Therefore, when Maccus, one of the oldest members of the crew, who had elected to continue to serve under his kind, new captain, discovered an item of substantial interest on the person of one of the latest souls to be taken aboard the _Dutchman_, he was quick to alert Will.

Asking the newly diseased pirate to follow him, Maccus made his way over to the ship's wheel.

"Captain?"

"Yes, Maccus," Will answered somewhat distractedly, tearing his eyes from the sea to discover that Maccus had a new passenger with him. "Welcome to the _Flying Dutchman, _sailor."

"Thank ya, sir," the man replied with a look of trepidation in his eyes.

"Captain," Maccus continued, "he brought this with him."

Maccus held out a paper for Will to examine.

"Always keep it aboard the ship, we do, in case the worst should happen," the man hurriedly interjected. "I'd had a mite too much rum, sir. Fell from the crow's nest. One o' the boys musta put it in me pocket….I – I – I don't want no trouble. If things is how they say they are – if you're really him – our Cap'n Turner she promised this here letter would guarantee a safe crossin' to the other side."

Will greedily took the letter from Maccus. This man was clearly a pirate serving aboard one of Elizabeth's vessels. Having once before found one of her letter, in much the same way, Will was not completely surprised by the turn of events. Nevertheless, it was a thrill to receive something from Elizabeth's own hands, especially after the long months with no knowledge of her.

"Thank you, Maccus," Will answered with genuine kindness and gratitude. Turning to the new man, he reassuringly answered, "We mean you no harm, sailor. I, personally, will see you safely to the Far Shore. Tell me, what do you know of Captain Turner?"

"Not much, beside legend, sir. Knowed she was the lady pirate what was elected King. 'eard about her part in the battle with the Tradin' Company. Supposedly married ta the pirate what killed Jones an' took over as Cap'n of the _Dutchman_….y – you, I be guessin'."

"I am her husband," he confirmed. "Captain Will Turner."

The pirate nodded. "Never laid eyes on her meself, but I'm told she's a right fine woman, and good pirate to boot."

Will's eyes softened. "That she is. If you'll excuse me."

Hurrying back to the captain's quarters, Will tore open the letter and devoured Elizabeth's words. Though he cherished everything she wrote - telling him of what she'd been up to, their son's current age and habits, and how much she loved and missed him - most of the information Will already knew from her and William's talks with the Chest. Furthermore, much to his disappointment, the letter was dated nearly eight months ago and, therefore, shed no light on the near six months of silence.

Will sighed, lovingly refolding the letter.

"Elizabeth, what's happened to you?"

* * *

AN: I'm going to be honest and admit that I have no real idea about how long it would actually take to reach World's End. The film itself is very vague about where exactly World's End is supposed to be located. From what is shown, I'm not certain if Singapore is supposed to be on the way to World's End, or if they merely go there to obtain the charts. Also, from the snow and glaciers they pass, it appears as if World's End is somewhat near an artic area, but it's not clear exactly where. Furthermore, when doing research into actual sailing times to and from real places at this point in history, the answers vary depending on weather, direction, the type of craft, etc. Additionally, these answers differ from source to source. As the film is vague on the issue of location, I have decided to maintain that vagueness, rather than assign an actual location. However, for the purposes of this story, I am maintaining that the journey from the Caribbean to World's End, aboard the _Black Pearl_, would take approximately six months. I am running with this idea. Please run with me. 


	11. World's End

* * *

"For anything worth having, one must pay the price."

- John Burroughs

* * *

William Turner slowly crept up the stairs and out onto the deck of the _Black Pearl_. He knew very well that his mother had instructed him to stay inside during this, the coldest part of their journey. It wasn't that he meant to disobey, for he always tried his hardest to make his mother proud. Still, there was a part of him that longed for adventure and excitement - and this part simply wouldn't allow him to pass up the opportunity to view the incredible things that surrounded him. 

"Wow," he said, his dark brown eyes wide with awe as they sailed past another ice-blue glacier.

He knew they were getting closer to his father everyday. He'd overhead Captain Jack, Barbossa, and his mother saying as much that very morning. A swift breeze blew across the deck, causing William to shiver involuntarily. Having lived in the Caribbean all of his life, he was unaccustomed to even the slightest chill. A bitter cold as fierce as this was far beyond his realm of experience. With a slight furrow wrinkling his tiny brown, William wondered if his papa's world was as cold as this strange place.

Upon observing her son's shivers, Elizabeth, who had been silently watching from the shadows, walked over to William, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and drawing him close.

"I'm cold, Mama," he said, a snowflake falling onto his nose and melting into his tanned skin.

"I know," she answered gently, hugging him closer in an attempt to share her warmth, "which is why I asked you to stay below deck."

Immediate remorse filled his eyes. "I'm sorry. But it's _so_ exciting….I only wanted to see the ice."

Elizabeth couldn't help but smile. She must admit, it was a hauntingly beautiful scene and, for a boy who'd never before so much as seen a single flake of snow, it had to be a wonder to behold.

"It's all right, love. I know too well what it's like to wish for excitement and adventure. Still, my William, you are freezing, and it is far too late for little boys your age to be awake."

"I'm not so little," he protested. "I'll be five in nine more days."

"That's true, but we all need sleep - especially boys who grow as quickly as you," she teased, mussing his curly brown hair.

William giggled and made a vain attempt to wiggle from his mother's tickling arms. Suddenly, his movements stilled and he looked up at Elizabeth with a serious expression upon his young face. "Mama, do you think Papa is sad, all alone in a strange place?"

Elizabeth regarded him with a mixture of surprise and sadness. "Your papa isn't _all_ alone. Remember, he has his father to sail with him…..He misses us, as we miss him, but he wouldn't wish for you to feel sad or worry for him."

William's eyes seemed to recall something and he smiled. "I know. Papa always wants me to be happy." The young boy turned with a sigh, regarding the sea once more. "I miss Papa. I miss having him talk to me."

Taking his statement for a general confession of his longing to have his father with him, tears clouded Elizabeth's eyes as she sank down to her knees, pulling her son tightly into her arms. "As do I. But you know that's impossible right now, darling."

William imagined she must be referring to the need to keep the location of his father's heart a secret during their journey. He nodded solemnly, understanding the importance of keeping the chest safe and reverently accepting the responsibility.

Elizabeth brushed a lone, stubborn curl from his eyes. "Never believe Papa doesn't love you, William, or that he doesn't wish with every part of him that he could be here with us. For he does, very much."

William looked horrified at the notion. "Of course Papa loves me! I know _that_."

His look of dismay was nearly identical to Will's expression whenever he feared he had somehow embarrassed himself before her. "Good," Elizabeth replied smiling to herself. "Now, come back inside, love. It won't be too much longer and we'll be past this snow and ice."

"We're almost at World's End, aren't we, Mama?" William asked.

"We are. Now come inside, before we both freeze!" Elizabeth said, chasing him into their cabin.

* * *

A week had gone by and, true to Elizabeth's word, they had left the cold and ice behind and now sailed on a temperate sea whose calm surface mirrored the inky black sky and twinkling stars overhead. 

Elizabeth stood, leaning against the rail of the _Pearl_, thinking back to another journey to World's End, nearly six years ago. She remembered standing by the rail of the _Hai Peng_ in much the same manner. She had been so lost in the guilt and horror of what she had done - what she had been capable of - that she'd been blind to Will's pain. He'd tried to reach out to her that night, but their misunderstanding and miscommunication stood between them.

Elizabeth sighed. "Oh, Will, the time we could have had together, if only…"

Reliving the memory in her mind, she suddenly recalled what had followed that exchange. The waterfall. World's End. They had to be close, very close. In a panic of the imminent danger they were about to face, Elizabeth swirled about, hurrying to locate and secure her son. Turning, she ran headlong into Barbossa.

"Whoa, Mrs. Turner, where ye be headin' in such a state?"

"Let me go! I need to find my son."

He looked at her with a mixture of confusion and something else she couldn't place. "Why? Has something happened to the boy?" Barbossa asked with an unusual degree of concern.

"No, nothing's happened to him – but it may," she replied, her voice an agony of pain and guilt. "We've been here before. You know what happens next. The _Hai Peng_ was completely destroyed going over the falls. We washed to shore nothing short of drowned rats. We could've easily been killed." She shook her head in remorse. "I was a fool to bring a four year old boy on a voyage such as this."

"And what is this I'm seeing?" Jack asked, sauntering up to the pair unnoticed. "Since neither one of you has been above plotting against old Jack in the past, I think it's only fair I give you warning that I'm in no mood to be returning to the Locker."

Barbossa rolled his eyes and walked away, taking advantage of this opportunity to take command of the ship.

"Jack, how could I have done this to my son? How could I have brought him here?"

"As I recall, and my memory is always impeccable, you wanted your dear blacksmith turned pirate, turned blacksmith, turned pirate again to finally meet his young whelp."

"I did. I _do_…..Will deserves to see his son. It _is_ what he would want - but what he'd want more is for me to keep our son safe in his absence. Now I've betrayed that. I've put William's life in danger, selfishly. I….._I_ wanted to see Will. I wanted to feel his arms about me," she continued, tears pooling in her eyes. "It clouded my judgment. I'll never forgive myself if - "

" 'Lizbeth, you're sailing aboard the _Pearl_, not some two-bit junk from the shores of Singapore. She can handle anything. You and your Williams will be happily reunited, and everything will go exactly as planned."

"How can you be sure of that?"

He gave her a devilish smile. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow." Deeming this a sufficient answer, he left to wrestle the wheel away from Barbossa.

"Ahead!" Gibbs cried, breaking the silence that had fallen. "World's End!"

At the warning, all hands came running on deck, including William.

"What's happening, Mama? Are we there?"

"Come, William," Elizabeth said, firmly taking his hand. "We're going below deck."

"Is there a storm coming?"

"No," she said carefully, "but a fall. A very big fall."

She took her son inside, holding him closely against her body as the deafening roar of falling water became ever louder.

"Are you afraid?" Elizabeth asked, her voice again tinged with guilt at her son's wide eyes and slight tremor.

"No," William replied, breathless with thrill.

Elizabeth pulled back to better see his face. "You find this exciting, don't you?" she asked with incredulous amusement.

William only smiled.

"Sometimes you are your mother's son."

The Pearl began to tilt forward, effectively ending all further conversation.

"Hold on to me very tightly, William," Elizabeth instructed, clutching the boy to her as the _Black Pearl_ tumbled over World's End into a dark oblivion.

* * *


	12. A Fool's Chance

* * *

"I would walk the world

I'd cross the sea

I'd journey beyond the moon

I'd try anything, go anywhere

To find my way back to you"

- Lindy Robbins

* * *

The _Pearl_ came crashing down with a thud, landing at a dangerous tilt before quickly righting herself. It seemed Jack had been right; she could handle anything. Realizing they hadn't met an untimely demise, the crew began to return to their stations, still stunned at the notion that they'd made it through such a fall unscathed. Elizabeth and William slowly walked out on deck. Though they had fallen over World's End in the dead of night, daylight met their eyes, the sun now high in the mid-day sky. 

"Mama?" William questioned.

Clearing her own mind of its momentary fog, Elizabeth turned to her son. "Yes, darling. Everything is opposite here, remember?"

He nodded and continued to look around in amazement. Suddenly, the full gravity of what she'd done fell upon Elizabeth. They were now in the Land of the Dead. There was no turning back. Before she had time to berate herself further, Jack and Barbossa assaulted her, each trying to arrive at her side before the other.

Elizabeth looked from one to the other. Despite the fact that each man held their features carefully indifferent, she knew them well enough to recognize the delight under the surface. She'd been missing Will for so many years. She knew all too well the desperation that brought - and she could see it reflected in their eyes. It occurred to her at that moment that Jack and Barbossa had been looking for the Fountain of Youth for the same amount of time. Now they were agonizingly close to the key, close to having what they had longed for all those years - and so was Elizabeth.

"How will we find him?" she asked.

"Finding someone in the Land of the Dead is no easy feat, tis true," Barbossa said. "We found the Locker easy enough, but young Captain Turner could be anywhere upon these vast waters."

Gibbs joined the trio, the charts in hand. "Aye, and the charts be of little help in the matter. They offer no advice on the navigation of these ghostly waters."

"Don't seem so ghostly to me," Ragetti interjected.

Pintel appeared alongside him hefting a cannonball. "Now that that obé women ain't wit' us, I was finally gonna see wha' a cannonball would do - "

"But there ain't no bodies," Ragetti reminded him.

Jack, Gibbs, Barbossa, and Elizabeth briefly glanced at the water to confirm his statement for themselves. Indeed, it was clear of both bodies and longboats.

"It seems Turner has been quite fervent about his job," Barbossa offered.

"No doubt to avoid the tentacles," Gibbs replied.

Elizabeth gave an exasperated sigh. "But how will we find Will?"

Jack, who had been silent throughout their encounter, wordlessly reached into his jacket and held out the compass.

"Your compass?" she asked, her voice tinged with doubt. "Will it work?"

"It's worf a try," Jack answered, tantalizingly dangling it before her. "Give us our bearing, Captain Turner."

Elizabeth gingerly took the compass from him, setting it carefully in her palm. She glanced around at the group surrounding her. All eyes, including her son's, were now watching her in anticipation.

_Take me to Will. I want to see Will_, she thought. With bated breath, she lifted the compass's top. Her look of utter disappointment told Jack all he needed to know. Nevertheless, Elizabeth showed him the compass, its arrow spinning wildly.

"I had hoped it was just me," Jack told her, referring to the compass's inability to provide him with a heading out of the locker all those years before.

"Its magic won't work in these waters," Gibbs offered as an afterthought.

"What now, Jack?" Barbossa asked.

"We set sail, dead ahead – if you'll pardon the term."

Jack seemed amused with himself, even if no one else was.

"It will be like searching for a needle in a haystack," Elizabeth protested.

"We have no way of knowing the distance to cover to the Far Shore," Gibbs stated. "Lest we wish to stay indefinitely, we can't linger here for more than a day or so."

"A fool's chance," Elizabeth muttered.

"It's the chance we'll have to take," Barbossa replied.

"Aye," Gibbs nodded in agreement, walking off with the rest of the crew to comply with these new orders.

Elizabeth looked over at her son who was steadfastly watching the horizon. She gave a weary sigh. The sad truth was that the odds of finding Will in the time allotted were slim to none.

Her despondent mood was not lost on Jack. "I came here for the key, and I don't intend to leave wifout it. You can be sure of that."

Elizabeth watched him walk away with a wry smile. In his own peculiar way, she knew Jack had meant to offer her encouragement. Looking at William, who so eagerly scanned the waters, she found all the determination she needed.

* * *

Elizabeth slammed Jack's compass down on the table, its arrow still maddeningly indecisive. "A lot of help you are," she huffed. 

With an irritated pout, she walked out on deck in search of William. A canopy of stars now replaced the bright sun. Eight hours of searching without a single sign of the _Flying Dutchman_ had left the crew on edge – and Elizabeth quite beside herself with anxious frustration.

After a quick scan of the deck, which offered no sign of her son, Elizabeth's heart caught in her throat as she finally spied him.

"William!" she cried, immediately regretting the raised voice that could easily frighten the child.

William nimbly scampered down the rigging, his eyes locked on his mother's slightly pale countenance. He quickly bridged the distance between them.

"William," Elizabeth chastised, "how many times must I ask you to stay down from the crow's nest?"

"I know, Mama," he replied with the voice and mannerisms of someone who had been through this conversation many times before. "I was just looking for Papa. I've been watching for him all day."

Elizabeth regarded her son sadly. "As have I. It's very difficult….waiting, isn't it?"

William nodded.

"I don't want you to be disappointed, love, although I fear it may be too late for that," she quietly added. "William, we may not find him before we must leave.

"We'll find him," William answered surely. "We're close. I can feel it."

His mother smiled. "Can you, now?"

"Mmhmm," he answered, a yawn immediately following. "I hope we can find him before my birthday. Papa would make a _wonderful_ present." His eyes were alight with excitement at the notion.

Elizabeth hated to dishearten him; nevertheless, he needed to know. "Your birthday's the day after tomorrow, William. If we don't find your father by then, I'm afraid we'll have to go back without seeing him."

Another yawn overtook William, whilst he shook his head 'no', still secure in his avowal that they were certain to find his father.

"All right, my darling, you've convinced me. We _shall_ see Papa - but most assuredly, not tonight, else you would have seen his ship, even from afar off, at your," here she annunciated the words in a very motherly manner, "_unnecessarily high_ vantage point."

William shot her an apologetic look.

"Right now," Elizabeth continued, "it's off to bed, for we've all had a very trying day."

William followed his mother back into their cabin without any struggle or argument. As exciting as it all had been, and as eager as he was to finally meet his father, he could not deny that he was utterly exhausted.

Once his mother helped him change and saw him settled in bed, William was asleep mere seconds after his head hit his pillow. Elizabeth, too, was worn out from the stress of the past twenty-four hours and, though she doubted sleep would come, decided to very shortly thereafter join her son. Nevertheless, she could not deny herself one last scan of the horizon.

After, yet again, finding three hundred and sixty degrees of emptiness, Elizabeth made her way back to her cabin. A gasp from overhead stopped her before she opened the door.

"What it is?!" she asked.

"Over there!" Ragetti pointed as he yelled down from his post in the crow's nest.

"I don't see anything!" Elizabeth shouted back.

"What's all the shoutin' for?" Pintel asked.

"Master Ragetti claims to have spotted something on the horizon," Barbossa replied, much more for the benefit of Jack, who had been drawn out on deck, than for Pintel.

Jack immediately pulled out his spyglass, followed shortly thereafter by Barbossa.

"It's a boat – ship!" Ragetti corrected himself.

"Aye," Gibbs agreed after a look through Jack's glass. "I'd know those sails anywhere."

"Adjust course accordingly, boys," Barbossa ordered the crew. "It seems we've found ourselves the _Dutchman_."

With a rousing cry, the crew set out to follow the command. In the whirlwind of activity that followed, only two figures remained still: Jack, who stood basking in the success of yet another of his farfetched plans, and Elizabeth who seemed frozen in place, her eyes glued to the tiny speck that now appeared on the horizon.

Despite the fact that the entire purpose of their extensive journey had been to find her husband, Elizabeth never allowed herself to fully believe they'd actually encounter him, fearing the disappointment would be too much for her to bear, and knowing she must be strong for their son. Now, realizing it was in fact happening, Elizabeth was unprepared for the torrent of emotions that flooded her heart as she gazed upon the nearly undetectable spot that was his ship.

Jack walked up alongside Elizabeth, giving her a devilish 'I told you so' grin, which was lost on the woman who was powerless to remove her eyes from her own long missing heart, slowly returning to her across the waters.

Even in a tender moment, such as this, Jack refused to be ignored, vocalizing his triumph instead. "Ye see, luv. I never leave wifout getting whot I came for."

Elizabeth spared him one quick glance before turning her sights back to the _Flying Dutchman_.

Seeing the elation coupled with yearning that shone brightly in her eyes, Jack quipped as he walked off, "And it seems neither will you."

Elizabeth clutched the side of the _Black Pearl_, nearly overcome at the notion that she would soon see Will - soon be in his arms again - for the first time in nearly six years. Her head began to reel for, now that she had him within eyesight, she found she could scarcely stand the additional wait - swearing that, if the _Pearl_ didn't go faster, she would rise up and sprout wings to get to Will.

* * *


	13. The Flying Dutchman

AN: I wanted to apologize for the slight delaying in updating. I made myself a rule that I'd update once a week, and I've gone and broken it! However, I do have a good excuse. (I've come out of the dark ages and finally updated to a broadband connection which, unfortunately, left me without Internet access for a spell.) I promise to never make you wait this long again - especially with a cliffy like that! On with the story...

* * *

"So far away

Been far away for far too long"

- Chad Kroeger; Daniel Adair; Ryan Peake

* * *

The _Black Pearl_ was, at last, within longboat range of the _Flying Dutchman_. Yet, Will was nowhere in sight, which disappointed Elizabeth, who had hoped to set eyes upon him as soon as possible. Nevertheless, it didn't deter her in the least. She would search every last hold of the ship, if necessary, to find him. 

No one dared disturb Elizabeth as she held vigil at the _Pearl_'s railing. The crew stood motionless, watching and waiting for her reaction, as if they expected her to do something rash at any moment. Still, they were prepared to follow her lead. After all, they'd been told by their duel captains at the start that Elizabeth's purpose was to act as a go-between for the crew of the _Black Pearl_ and the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_.

The reaction they waited for finally came. Suddenly twirling about, Elizabeth ordered, "Lower a longboat". Though her command had been to no one in particular, it was obvious she expected an immediate response. Scanning the deck for someone she could trust, Elizabeth turned to Gibbs. "And bring my son."

"Aye," Gibbs nodded, his movement seeming to rouse the rest of the crew, who now suddenly sprang into action, beginning to ready the boat she had requested.

Seeing that Elizabeth had emerged from the temporary stupor that had taken hold of her at the sight of the _Dutchman_, Jack and Barbossa retreated to a deserted corner of the deck.

"Are ya sure she knows nothin' of the plan?" Barbossa questioned.

Safely convinced that the rest of the men – and especially the lady in question – were distracted enough with their busy preparations not to take notice of the pair's strange tête-à-tête, Jack finally answered.

" 'Lizabeth believes she's here to smooth things over for us with her husband, as I've told her. The plan to use her and the boy as leverage is as sure as ever, as I've told you. And I will not be leaving here without my assurance of immortality, as I've told everyone who was willing to listen – and, actually, a few who were not."

Jack's smirk earned a scowl from Barbossa.

"Immortality for _you_, Jack?" he spat out.

Jack had the courtesy to look a bit sheepish at the oversight. Waving his hands in a broad gesture, he replied, "Immortality for us all."

Barbossa began to open his mouth in further argument, but Jack held up a hand to stop him. Having what he had long sought after within his sights, the infamous captain was suddenly all seriousness.

"Do us a favor, I know it's neigh impossible for you, but stay out of this. Let _me_ handle the whelp. He's never taken kindly to threats against Elizabeth, and the boy will be no different – worse, in fact, if I wagered a guess."

"I will not - "

"Ah, ah – see there, you're doing it again. This will require a great deal of finesse, which I have and you don't. This will require their trust, which I have – sort of – and you certainly do not. _I_ will be handling things."

If truth be told, Jack was not entirely certain that Elizabeth fully believed his explanation for wanting herself and Will's son on the voyage although, he must admit, the boy had never been a part of his original plan. When Elizabeth refused to leave her son behind to go on the journey, one thing had led to another and, before he knew it, they had a small boy in tow. Jack had known all along that this would complicate matters, as Elizabeth - and he was sure Will – became lethally enraged at even the suggestion of a threat against their son. Nevertheless, it could not be avoided. Thus, he found himself in this precariously dangerous situation, a position not at all unfamiliar to the likes of one Captain Jack Sparrow. However, he would not let on any of this to Barbossa.

Watching Ragetti, Elizabeth, and Gibbs, with a still sleeping William in his arms, settle into the longboat, Jack and Barbossa pulled out their spyglasses to better view whatever was about to unfold.

Perched in the longboat, Elizabeth could hardly think clearly due to anticipation. Everything she had wished for over the past years was about to come true, and she could scarcely come to terms with this notion, or the emotions it elicited within her. Yet, she was disturbed by the fact that Will was still nowhere to be found. Such happiness within reach seemed too good to be true to the woman who'd had grief, heartache, and loneliness as constant companions for longer than she cared to remember. Though she wished it wasn't so, she couldn't help but worry that something would come along at any moment to dash her hopes. She feared that Will's absence amongst the small crowd that had gathered on the _Dutchman_'s deck was just such a thing.

Having finally reached the vessel, Elizabeth began to nimbly climb aboard, shooting Gibbs a look over her shoulder which wordlessly conveyed her wish that, once they were assured that all was well, he should follow after her with William.

Stepping on deck, Elizabeth was immediately greeted by a man she did not know. Granted, she had been aboard the _Flying Dutchman_ and had seen – fought to the death was actually the more appropriate term – many members of her crew. However, that was when the men were in their fishlike state. Now, she had no way of knowing if the _Dutchman_'s current crew was made up of these same men or new recruits.

It just so happened that the man currently speaking with Elizabeth was, indeed, a newer member of the crew, having served for the past two years. He had no idea of the significance of the woman he was speaking to, and had merely taken the party for a new batch of souls to be transported. Although he must admit the presence of an entire ship was an oddity, he had seen enough of oddness in the Land of the Dead to only be slightly fazed by this turn of events.

Maccus, however, whose length of service on the _Dutchman_ outlasted even the captain's, instantly recognized the ship on the horizon as the _Black Pearl_. Furthermore, there was no mistaking the woman who now stood on deck. Though it was a rarity - in fact, he hadn't seen such a case in four years - Maccus had witnessed large vessels in the Sea of the Dead before. It only occurred when a ship and its entire crew had gone down together, passing all at once. Knowing this, he reasoned the presence of the _Black Pearl_ and Mrs. Elizabeth Turner could only mean one thing. He loathed the thought of rousing his sleeping captain to deliver the gruesome, unthinkable news. In all truth, he feared for the man's sanity upon hearing it. Thus, he stood frozen in place, not knowing what to do.

It was at this moment that Bootstrap appeared on deck, having arrived from his own respite to relive Maccus at the wheel. Despite the fact that he had seen her only a few brief moments, many years ago - most of which he was out of his mind - a man simply does not easily forget his daughter-in-law, especially one as beguiling as she.

At last discovering a familiar face, for he wasn't so greatly altered from his cursed state as to be unrecognizable to her, Elizabeth turned to Bootstrap, who quickly went to her.

"Elizabeth," he said, at a loss for anything else to say, so shocked was he by her sudden presence on the _Dutchman,_ and more than a little unsure of what to make of it. He had long been familiar with his son's greatest fear.

"Where is Will?" she asked, unable to keep the concern from her voice.

Bootstrap took in her perturbed state, fearing it was a result of what she must have just experienced. "He's in his cabin," he replied carefully. "I'll go get him."

However, before Bootstrap moved more than two steps to accomplish his promised task, the man, himself, suddenly appeared at the wheel beside Maccus.

"What's happened?" Will asked him. "Why have we stopped?"

Having momentarily forgotten her husband's ability to instantly come and go as he pleased, Elizabeth was briefly taken aback. Yet, upon laying eyes on her beloved, all coherent thoughts flew out of her head, and her heart wildly danced for joy.

"Will," she said.

Hearing the voice he immediately recognized as his wife's, Will thought for an instant that the long, torturous months of silence had finally driven him mad. Nevertheless, he instinctively turned toward the source of the sound.

Their eyes locked, and everything and everyone else around them ceased to exist.

"Elizabeth?" he asked, still uncertain if she was actually real or merely a cruel hoax his agonized mind played upon him.

"Will!" she shouted and began to run to him.

However, in an instant's time he appeared before her, intercepting her in his arms – discovering, in fact, that she was quite real. Husband and wife held one another tightly, lost to anything else other than the feel of their arms around each other. This satisfied them for the moment, and they stood clinging together for what could have been years, hours, or merely minutes. They couldn't rightly say. Having now tasted the simple joy of touching, which had long been denied them, Will pulled back to claim another more pressing delight – the lips that had haunted him for neigh on to six years.

Elizabeth found that Will's lips fit hers as perfectly as ever before, his tongue joining hers in a dance easily remembered, yet never before so exquisitely intoxicating, such pure ecstasy. Then, suddenly, the rapture ended, as Will abruptly removed his lips from hers, a horrifying thought occurring to him.

Her brow furrowed in confusion, Elizabeth watching him as he wordlessly examined her eyes, looking deep into them for she knew not what, his own eyes illuminating an intensity that would have frightened her coming from anyone else but Will.

"You're not dead," he stated, relief evident in his voice.

Now realizing the unbearable assumption that her sudden appearance must have elicited, she smiled comfortingly at him, snuggling closer to his body. "No, I'm not," she replied, her arms, once again, finding their way around his neck, her fingers twining in the dark curls beneath his bandana in a way she had dreamed of countless times over the past years. "I came over World's End, with Jack, to find you."

An easy smile played upon Will's lips at her attentions, and he brought one hand up to caress her cheek, the other remaining at her waist, holding her firmly to him. "Then we have time," he replied in the warm, sensuous voice reserved only for her, for moments such as this.

Elizabeth's eyes were aglow, her smile radiant, at that the knowledge that they truly possessed such a simple, yet valuable, commodity long denied them. "Yes, we do."

Will and Elizabeth continued to gaze at each other, lost in the moment, their eyes conveying more than a thousand words. At length, Will spoke, "Come with me."

Elizabeth answered with a smile, more than willing to follow him anywhere, as he took her hand and led her to his cabin.

* * *

Aboard the _Black Pearl_, Jack and Barbossa had been eagerly watching the exchange. Seeing the pair disappear into the Captain's Quarters, Barbossa collapsed his spyglass. 

"There'll be none of that," Barbossa growled. "He's to give us the key. I'm going aboard."

Barbossa made for another longboat, Jack following after him.

"Hector," he began impatiently, a touch of disappointment lacing his voice, "you forget. Even with such valuable leverage as we possess, you must remember who we're dealing with. Not just young William Turner, but the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_, an entity with powers far beyond our own." Jack grimaced slightly. "I know far too well the sorts of things that happen when said captain is provoked. I care not to experience them again."

Recognizing the truth in Jack's statement, Barbossa halted his preparations of the longboat.

"No," Jack continued, his trademark devilish grin returning, "it's much better this way. I have a feeling the good Captain will be in a far better mood after a long night with his bonny lass."

* * *

Will pulled Elizabeth inside his cabin, safely away from prying eyes. Pushing the door closed, he trapped her body against it with his own, reclaiming the lips that thrilled him so, awakening within them both feelings they had spent years repressing. Mad with the need for yet more of her, Will's lips left her own and began placing a trail of hungry kisses along her jaw line, stopping languidly to play with her earlobe and tease the tender skin just beneath it, before moving down her neck to her collarbone. 

Elizabeth knew she must stop him but – goodness – was it ever getting difficult to do so! Yet, for their son's sake, she knew she must find the strength.

"Will," she whispered weakly.

Her husband was used to utterances of his name from her lips at moments like this, and merely took it as a sign of encouragement to continue - which he did.

"Will," she began again, trying to make her voice sound more insistent, but failing miserably, her own body betraying her, as her fingers clutched at his hair, pulling him ever tighter to her.

In response to his name, he sucked gently at the juncture of her neck and shoulder, eliciting a gasp from Elizabeth. Her husband's lips trailed ever further, following the V of her neckline, as her mind continued to fog. His path halted by the presence of the pesky material, Will reached down to remove the offending garment. Suddenly recalling the last time he had done so, Elizabeth was reminded of the reason they couldn't continue.

"Will," she said firmly, placing her hands over his at the hem of her shirt.

Will instantly removed his lips from her body, regarding her with confusion.

"We can't," Elizabeth told him gently.

Disappointment and, perhaps, a trace of hurt joined the confusion within his eyes.

"Not yet," Elizabeth clarified. His delighted relief was so evident on his face that it caused her to laugh. She ran her hand up his scarred chest to his face, smiling blissfully at the thought of the perfect little miracle she was about to present him with. "There's someone you need to meet first."


	14. Rain

* * *

"I want to be with you, if only for a night."

- K. Thomas

* * *

Elizabeth wriggled from Will's arms and slipped out the door, leaving her baffled husband in her wake. There was only one other person Will cared to see at the moment – and, he reasoned, that was an impossibility, for he was literally worlds away in their island home. 

Stealing back through the open door, Elizabeth attempted to tell her husband they had a child. "Will, you - you remember our day on the beach?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, accompanied by an amused smile. "Only on a nightly basis."

His flirtation only served to further fluster her. "I don't know what is the matter with me. I've imagined telling you this a thousand times but, now that I'm here with you, all the right words seemed to have flown from my mind."

"Elizabeth," Will began, reaching for her, but she was out the door again.

She returned seconds later, a bundle in her arms.

"Will, this is - "

"Our son," he finished, his voice full of awe, as he carefully studied the sleeping child.

Elizabeth's brow furrowed in confusion for an instant, and then her eyes lit in understanding. "You received one of my letters! I left them on all our ships."

Will briefly tore his eyes from his son to glance at his wife. Deciding it was best to save the full truth for a latter moment, he responded, "Yes, two of them, actually."

Elizabeth smiled at him. Quickly scanning the room, she located his cot. Shutting the door, she walked over and sat upon the bed, beckoning him to join her. Turning to her husband, she finally lived the moment she had been waiting five years and seven months - almost to the day - for: placing their sleeping son in his arms.

Will had known of his child's existence before his son was born. He even had a relationship with him on a level Elizabeth was still in ignorance of. In that time, Will had often envisioned what their son might look like. Yet, in all of his imaginings, he had never dreamed of their child being such a mirror image of him.

Elizabeth sat with tears in her eyes, watching William sleep in the arms of his father, where he had always belonged.

"How do you like your son?" she asked softly.

Will looked up at his wife, tears of his own filling his eyes. He found himself at a loss for words, finally uttering, "He is perfect."

Elizabeth nodded. "Sometimes when I look at him, I can hardly believe that we created something so beautiful. He is our miracle, Will. I don't know how I would've survived all these years without him."

Will leaned close to her, tenderly brushing her lips with his own, seeking to kiss away the pain that unwittingly surfaced on her face. "I'm so proud of you, Elizabeth," he said, resting his forehead against hers. "You've given me a perfect son, a wonderful life to come back to…. You've given me so much. I….I don't know how to begin to - " his voice faltered with emotion, and he found he couldn't go on.

In answer, Elizabeth softly trailed her finger from his lip down his chin, following the path of his goatee.

Will kissed her once more before looking back down at their son. Seeing that a rebellious chocolate brown curl – much like his own - had fallen into William's face, ever so carefully, Will reached down to brush it away.

"He has your eyes, too," Elizabeth told him. "He's so much like you."

Will continued his appraisal of their son, no less amazed now than at first sight of him. William omitted a small snore, causing his father to chuckle.

"Poor darling," Elizabeth said laughingly. "He's so very tired. He hadn't slept in two full days. Nightfall was only just coming on when we reached World's End – of course, there was no sleeping through _that_. When we emerged on the other side, it was daylight. Though we sailed all day trying to find you, I couldn't convince him to tear his eyes from the horizon. Somehow, he sensed we were close. All he would do is watch and wait for you."

Will smiled at her words, hungry for any detail of their son.

"Finally the poor lamb gave in to sheer exhaustion," Elizabeth continued. "The fact that he slept through the transfer from the _Pearl_ is a testament to how very tired he is."

Will smiled down at his son, gently smoothing his hair.

Elizabeth's heart ached for her too beloved men, so very much alike, yet cruelly kept apart. "Oh, but you've both waited _so_ long to finally see each other," she said. "I'll wake him."

Elizabeth reached over to rouse William from his sleep, but Will stopped her.

"No, let him rest."

"Are you sure?"

Will nodded. "I wouldn't have you disturb him on my account," he said. "He needs his sleep. I can wait till the morning for a proper introduction."

Elizabeth smiled. "Spoken like a true father."

Will placed an arm about her waist, the other cradling his sleeping son's head. Elizabeth twined her own arm about Will's waist, gently holding William's hand with the other, forming a completed circle. At last reunited, mother, father, and son sat peacefully, perfectly contented to bask in the simplicity of the moment.

At length, Will broke the silence. "We make beautiful children, Mrs. Turner," he said warmly.

Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears which soon spilled over onto her cheeks. "Will, I….I can't believe we're finally - "

Will gently placed a finger on her lips. "Shh," he said, soothingly. "We'll never find the words."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement, tears continuing to stream down her face. "I love you," she said with all the intensity and longing of years' worth of never seeing him, never touching him, never being near him.

"I was wrong," Will replied. "You've said it all." Reaching up, he lovingly stroked her cheek. "The love I feel for you and our son, the joy I have….." Will shook his head, struggling to convey his emotions. "I….I could never adequately describe it. Right here, in this moment, I hold _everything_ in my arms."

Elizabeth placed a caressing hand upon his chest, but her reply was cut short by a gentle knock on the door.

Bootstrap softly entered the room. "I'm sorry to interrupt."

At the sight of his father, Will's face transformed into a goofy grin. "My son," he said, indicating the sleeping boy in his arms.

Bootstrap smiled, moving closer to get a better look at his grandson. "The lad is perfect," he said, turning to Elizabeth. "You've done a fine job of raising the boy."

"Thank you," she replied, returning the smile.

Bootstrap turned back to his son. "I didn't mean to intrude, William, but it's getting late….. I thought you might want me to take the boy for the night."

Will looked to Elizabeth, who gave her husband a look which conveyed that she wholeheartedly shared in his desire to spend the night alone together.

Seeing the looks of intimacy the pair exchanged, Bootstrap thought, perhaps, it would be best for him to leave the room once more. Just as he was about to do so, Will seemed to remember himself, and stood, gently placing William into the arms of his grandfather.

"He shan't awaken in the night. He always sleeps straight through," Elizabeth instructed her father-in-law. "But, if by chance, he should, you will come and get us?" As much as she wished for some long overdue time with her husband, hers was still the heart of a mother who had yet to be separated from her son for so much as a single night.

Bootstrap laughed. "That I will." He turned softly, closing the door.

Finding themselves alone, Will and Elizabeth turned to each other. Rising from the bed, she walked over to his side, discovering that she felt closer to shyness than she ever had before while in his presence.

"How I've dreamed of this moment," Will said, placing his hands on her waist and pulling her body flush against his. This, alone, was enough to darken his eyes and leave his voice hoarse with desire as he whispered her name.

Elizabeth rested her hands upon his chest, feeling no less desire, but hers was tempered by a secret insecurity. "Will?"

"Hmmm," he replied, softly nuzzling her neck.

"It has been a long time," she began. "You…You may find me greatly altered……perhaps, not to your satisfaction."

Astonished at her words, Will pulled back to look at her in an effort to ascertain if she was actually serious. Discovering that, in fact, she was, he gently cupped her face in his hands, looking deeply into her eyes. "That is impossible," he told her in all sincerity. "Elizabeth, I have never wanted you more than I do in this moment."

Sufficiently convinced, she came alive in his arms. "Well, then, we are wasting time," she replied, fiddling with the open expanse of his shirt. "Six years is an awfully long time - and you are not the only one who has been busy 'dreaming'."

Elizabeth attacked Will's lips with a fervor that surprised him, yet was quickly welcomed. Will's lips and tongue rediscovered the path they have blazed earlier in the evening, assaulting her jaw line, ear, neck, and collarbone until she found it difficult to remember even her name, nothing but his own issuing from her lips. With no interruptions this time, he continued his trail down her chest, placing kisses on any and all exposed skin. All rational thought long gone, Elizabeth could think of nothing save her urgent need to divest Will of his shirt as quickly as possible.

Feeling her hands tugging eagerly at the fabric, Will pulled back from Elizabeth to allow her to remove it from his body. With his shirt now carelessly cast aside on the floor, Will swept Elizabeth up into his arms and placed her gently upon his bed. Pulling him down to her, Elizabeth reached for his trousers, anxious to rid him of those, as well, but Will placed his hands over hers, stopping her progress.

"Not so fast," he said breathlessly, giving her an amorous grin. "We have _all_ night, and I wish to spend it rememorizing every last inch of your body," he continued, reaching down to the hem of her shirt.

Elizabeth shamelessly watched Will peel the garment away from her skin, enjoying the look of untamed desire in her husband's eyes, until she was lost to all else but the feel of his hands upon her body.

"Speak to me, Will," she murmured in a whispered sigh, grasping the curls that protruded from beneath his bandana. "After so long….Speak to me…Say anything….I need to hear your voice."

"Elizabeth," Will repeated between kisses, in increasingly passionate tones. "I love you. _Oh_, how I love you."

Quickly, however, they each found themselves past the point of coherent speech, and there was nothing left to do but lose themselves in each other. For too long, they had both been slowly dying of thirst. Now the rain was falling, pouring in an endless cascade, and they were determined to soak up every last drop, as they were swept away on a tidal wave of love.

* * *


	15. Heaven

* * *

"These are the moments

I know Heaven must exist."

- Diane Warren

* * *

Sighing, Elizabeth snuggled still closer to Will's warm body. With her husband's chest as her pillow, his arms as her blanket, for the first in so many years she felt safe, protected, and perfectly contented. She had been strong on her own for such a long time, but now _Will_ was here. Everything was as it should be, and she could finally rest. With Will's lips murmuring lovely things into her ear, Elizabeth drifted off into a peaceful sleep. 

Will lovingly caressed her back, her skin like silk beneath his rough hands. "I love you, Elizabeth," he told her - for what must have been the hundredth time that evening. When she did not reward him with a soft and tender kiss, as she had the other ninety-nine times, he roused himself enough to look down into her face. Smiling, he discovered that his wife was sound asleep. His arms unconsciously held her nearer, realizing the ordeal she had been through. How difficult it must have been for her to start a life anew, a lone woman – with child, nonetheless! Even this last journey, to make it into his arms tonight, could not have been easy. She'd had so much to deal with: keeping his heart safe, caring for their son, dealing with the likes of Jack and Barbossa. She had said William hadn't slept in nearly two days, which meant it had at least been that long for her. Will felt a pang of guilt, no matter how unreasonable. He wished that he could be there for her, bear all the hardships that she should never have to, but he was powerless to change things. Placing a light kiss into her hair, he banished all melancholy thoughts from his mind. This night, this time, was about the two of them and their family. Will was determined it would be nothing but happiness for the trio, until they had to part once more.

* * *

Stirring from her slumber, Elizabeth felt something warm and hard against her cheek. Curious, she reached her hand forth, her fingers discovering the defined muscles of her husband's chest. A smile stretched across her lips as she remembered where she was, and whom she was lying on. 

"Good evening, my love," Will said warmly. "Or perhaps I should say good morning, as it is after midnight."

Her smile formed into an adorable pout, which Will had always been powerless to resist. "How long have I been sleeping? You should have awoken me. I'm sorry, darling."

"Whatever for?"

"Even now, I have so little time with you. I don't wish to waste a moment of it in slumber."

Will smiled, gathering her to him, loving the feeling of her soft body against his. "It wasn't wasted. I lay here watching you sleep, counting each breath. It was neigh unto Heaven."

Elizabeth gave him a smoldering look that told him their night was far from over. "How long did you say we have, Will?"

"A day, maybe two," he replied. "And then you must go. I'll know when it is time."

His last sentence was uttered somewhat cryptically, making Elizabeth wonder at the things he had endured over these years. Wishing to rid him of the pain, she reached up and kissed his lips. Successfully diverted, Will deepened the kiss, feeling it was impossible for him to ever get enough of her.

With an amorous little giggle, Elizabeth settled back against his chest, running her hands across whatever expanse of skin she could reach. "Oh, how I've missed your touch. There were times when I imagined you with me, like this, _so_ vividly. Once, I even thought - "

"That you could actually feel my touch?" Will continued for her.

Rising up on her elbow, Elizabeth regarded him.

"It was nearly a year ago, now. You were in your bedroom, our son asleep. You wished I was there with you, holding you, touching you.…" Will gave her a positively wicked grin. "You're not the only one who carries vivid memories of that evening."

Elizabeth's confusion increased tenfold at his seemingly impossible, but incredibly accurate, description of the night in question. "But….No, I – I only dreamed that. I - " Something in his expression told her he was completely serious. With widened eyes, she leaned in closer, whispering, "How?"

"I don't know," he told her honestly. "There's so much of this I'll never understand but, somehow, when you're near to the chest…" he paused, trying to think of the proper way to revel the remarkable truth, finally deciding on utter bluntness. "I can hear you, sometimes even see you, rarer still, feel you."

"How long?" Elizabeth asked in wonder. "How long has this been happening?"

"Since the very beginning. I've heard it all, every last word you've spoken. At first, it astounded me. I couldn't understand it. Gradually, I began to harness and control the ability. It is only possible through the chest," Will continued. "Somehow the connection of the heart….I do not know. I can't explain it. It simply is…..In the beginning, I thought you might be able to hear me, too, but - "

"You speak to William," she interrupted, her voice incredulous at the sudden realization. "He can hear you."

Will's eyes lit in joyful recollection of his conversations with their son.

"Dear Lord, Will," Elizabeth continued, her shock apparent. "All this time….And he told me. I didn't believe him. I – I thought….But he hears you?"

"Yes," Will replied happily. "You kept the chest from him, so I never knew, but I - "

"Oh, Will, I'm sorry. I didn't realize. I was only afraid he might unknowingly harm it."

"I know, my love. It is not your fault. Before then, he was probably too young to understand, anyway."

Relived and comforted by his words, Elizabeth continued to try to wrap her mind around this strange revelation. "So, you speak to one another, as we are now?"

"It's difficult to explain. I'm not sure if he hears every word, as I do, or if he simply feels my emotions."

"But he tells me what you've said."

"Yes," Will laughed. "And, even so young, he always gets the general message across."

"But why can't _I_ hear you and speak to you?" she asked frowning, something left of the Governor's daughter betraying itself.

Amused, Will leaned up and kissed her pouted lips. "I don't know. I suppose it is because, as much as I love you, physically he is a part of me. Perhaps, that makes the bond stronger. Sometimes I wonder if he doesn't possess some of my powers."

"As do I," Elizabeth confessed. "He's very smart, far beyond his age. He's so intuitive, and his health is remarkable. I suppose we shall have to wait and see. But, Will, we three have been given such an amazing gift. Now that I know the two of you can actually converse – in whatever manner you do – it will be like having you with us."

"Well, in most ways," Will answered wolfishly. Elizabeth giggled at his exaggerated mannerism, until he began tracing the line of her jaw with his finger, stopping at her lips, eliciting far different emotions within her.

"So, Captain Turner, tell me more of these abilities of yours. I already know one of them," she said insatiably.

Smiling, he fluidly rolled over, so she now lie beneath him. "I am told my stamina is inexhaustible."

"Is that so?" she asked, slipping her arms about his neck. "I think we shall have to test that." She kissed his lips, Will eagerly responding. With a descendant sigh, she fell back against the pillows, perfectly pleased to be feminine and flirtatious with him - two roles she hadn't played in a very long time. "I wish we could swim in the ocean, as we did on our first day together. You know how I love the ocean."

"Yes, love," Will replied, "but the Sea of the Dead is no place for swimming and, if we were to repeat it exactly, we would both be quite without a stitch of clothing, and I don't wish for the crew to ogle my very desirable wife. I want your body to be reserved only for me," he said, possessively running his hand down her middle from neck to naval.

Elizabeth shivered, arching into his touch. "Well then, Captain, yours shall be only for me," she replied, holding his body still tighter to hers.

"I am glad, Mrs. Turner, because I want only you."

"And, all this time, it was your touch - and yours alone - that I yearned for."

"Have I satisfied that yearning, then?" Will asked, his hand trailing up her thigh.

Something in his eyes, and other regions, told Elizabeth that Will was nearing a breaking point, and she blissfully prepared to soon be ravaged. "Mmmm, you have," she replied ardently. "But five years, nine months, and two days is an awfully long time. I think I may require further proof of your affections."

"That is a fortunate thing," Will answered in his sensuous tone that never failed to arouse her. "For I was far from finished showing you."

* * *

Over the next hours, in between bouts of lovemaking, they told one another everything about their lives over the past years, though Will already knew much of what had occurred in Elizabeth's. They spoke of how much they had missed one another, how much they loved one another, and a million other sweet-nothings only spoken by lovers at moments such as these. Lastly, they spoke of Will's servitude and when and where they would meet when his ten years were through. 

"It is not hard breaking this curse," Elizabeth told him, lying cradled on his chest, once more. "As I have, no doubt, provided ample proof over the past hours, my zeal for you is such, it renders my blind to any other man."

"As I am to any other woman."

"And what women do you have aboard the _Dutchman_?" she asked impertinently.

"Those that die at sea," he replied in amusement. "But none that compare to you."

Appeased, she settled back against him, her cheek upon his scar.

"Love," Will said, looking down at Elizabeth, "I believe you've told me everything now, except how you came to be here with me."

"Oh, yes," she exclaimed, amazed that she could have forgotten such an important detail. "Jack."

"Yes," Will answered pointedly. "Clearly, he must want something of me, else he wouldn't be here. I'm a little surprised he hasn't broken in on us already. Although, knowing Jack, he probably assumes that after I've submitted to your charms, I'll be much more receptive to his."

Elizabeth laughed, propping herself up on her elbow to regard him. "I'm sure you're right. I should probably be offended but, as you know, I'm far too wanton to care. I think I would be in a fair amount of danger of doing bodily harm to anyone who dared interrupt us tonight."

"And I wouldn't stop you," Will said, twining his hand in her honeyed locks and punctuating his agreement with a kiss. "But in all seriousness, Elizabeth, what does he have planned?"

"It seems the idea of immortality is very appealing to Jack."

"It isn't all it's made out to be."

Elizabeth kissed Will's nose in reply, as always, her touch a soothing balm. "All of these years – when he isn't fighting Barbossa for control of the _Black Pearl_ – Jack's been searching for the Fountain of Youth. That's why he's come here, to you. He needs the key."

"The key?"

"Yes, _the_ key – to the Fountain." Elizabeth was a bit confused, assuming this fell under the domain of things that the Captain of the Flying Dutchman somehow knew.

"Elizabeth, the only key I know of I keep upon my person."

Amused, she looked down at his nude, decidedly keyless, body.

"Well," he replied, "perhaps not at all times. But, love, I truly know nothing of the Fountain of Youth, or any key which unlocks it."

"But the inscription said it was to be found with you."

"Well, I do not know. I am sorry."

"I'm not," Elizabeth answered laughingly. "No matter how imaginary it is, the key is the whole reason Jack took me on this apparently needless voyage. It has brought me to your arms and, fictional or not, I love it."

Satisfied that all had been said that needed to be, Elizabeth leaned over and began peppering kisses along Will's neck.

"But where – where do you fall into this plot?" Will asked. "What would Ja - " he was interrupted by an escaping groan as she nipped enticingly into his flesh " - ck have you do?"

"Persuade you," she replied, moving her kisses to his lips. "I'm meant to entice and persuade you to do as he bids."

"Really?" Will replied, breath already quickened. "And how are you meant to do that?"

Sliding down, Elizabeth began following the path of his scar with her lips and tongue. "By any means necessary," she answered between kisses.

"Any?" he asked, his voice rough with desire.

She moved across him, rising to straddle his hips, providing him with an ample view of her nude upper half. "Any and all."

* * *

Hours later, the two lie satiated, Will's head resting upon Elizabeth's bosom, as she softly stroked his head, running her fingers through his hair. She broke their contented silence with a laugh. 

"And what has amused you, my love?" Will asked looking up at her.

"I was just thinking, this is very much how I used to cradle our son. His hair is so like yours," she said, twisting a curl about her finger. "_He_ is so like you."

Will smiled at her words.

"Wait until you meet him. You'll see. Even his expressions are nearly identical to yours. I only wish you could've been there to see him as a babe. He's growing so big now. His birthday is tomorrow, you know."

"Yes, I remember. I – Actually, I have a gift for him," Will answered. "I did not know you were coming, of course. In the long months of silence, I knew nothing."

Elizabeth pulled him tighter to her bosom. "I am sorry, Will. How difficult it must have been for you."

He shook his head, melting into her embrace. "It doesn't matter now. But, over the years on the _Dutchman_, I've picked up a new skill: carving. I've made William a wooden sword, and one for myself, so that I might teach him upon my return. Now that you are here, I shall give it to him as a remembrance."

"Oh, Will, he'll love it. He'd love anything from you," Elizabeth replied, sighing. "I can't believe our son has grown so quickly. Soon he'll be a skilled swordsman and well on his way to becoming a dashing pirate, just like his father."

Will laughed. "I love you like this, every inch the mother, already fearing she has lost her baby - at the tender age of five. Of course, it is difficult to reckon this side of you with the wild little girl, her skirts always tattered from our various adventures, swearing she'd never be thus tamed."

"I am _not_ tamed," Elizabeth answered cheekily.

Will smiled in return. "And I would not have you so."

"Still," she continued, "sometimes I do miss cradling our baby in my arms. Soon he will grow too old to welcome even my kisses."

Will laughed, vigorously kissing her lips. "I never shall," he answered at length. "And when I return, I promise we'll make more children – as many as the house can hold."

Elizabeth smiled, running her finger along his lips where her own had just been. "Perhaps we already have."

"No, love," he replied with gravity. "We are still in the Land of the Dead. No life is ever created here."

She frowned for an instant, taken aback by the sensation of loss that flooded her heart, before quickly dismissing the feeling. "It is as it should be. I wish for no more of your children until you are there to hold them in your arms the very instant they are born."

Will kissed her once more. "I promise I shall be. But, for now, we should go find the son we do have."

Will began to rise from the bed, but Elizabeth stopped him, pulling him back to her. "Will, our son takes after his mother in at least one respect. It isn't yet dawn. He'll be abed still for hours. I imagine we'll have to wake him when the time comes. But," she continued, pulling his body fully atop hers, "his mother is wide awake, and _very_ much desires your attentions."

"As milady wishes," Will replied before his lips hungrily descended upon hers.

* * *

AN: Thank you so much for all of your reviews. They really do encourage me tremendously. I've been writing mostly angst for the past fourteen chapters. So, you'll have to forgive me that the fifteenth was fluff all the way! It was my longest chapter yet, and no one even got out of bed! 


	16. The Morning After

* * *

"Nothing is worth more than this day."

- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

* * *

Will lie lazily regarding Elizabeth, his cheek resting gently upon her abdomen, one hand at her waist, the other softly teasing her collarbone. A broad smile stretched across his face as he emitted a low sigh.

"Is it morning?" Elizabeth purred, knowing full well that it was.

"It is," Will answered, placing a kiss upon her hipbone and another just below her navel.

She shivered involuntarily at the feel of his lips upon her skin, something she could never get enough of. Nevertheless, she prepared to rise from the bed. Will, however, stopped her with an enticing hand trailing up her thigh, sending Elizabeth's head back against the pillow. Her eyes closed in ecstasy, already losing herself in his touch.

"Will, I thought you wanted to see your son," she said, the smile playing across her lips and the pleasured look on her face belying her gentle reprimand.

"I do," Will answered seriously, abruptly ceasing his seduction.

Despite herself, a piteous little pout escaped from Elizabeth at the cessation of his caresses. Will laughed, pulling himself up to her level and snuggling into her neck, his face firmly buried in her hair.

"It is inconceivably thrilling," Will murmured. "It's like paradise - having you here me, in my bed, your body soft and warm and inviting."

"I've been 'inviting' you all night," Elizabeth impertinently replied.

Will gave her a naughty smile. "That you have."

Placing one last kiss in the valley between her breasts, he took hold of her hand and hoisted them both from the bed.

* * *

Gathering their scattered articles of clothing proved a formidable task for, in their eagerness the night before, neither was quite sure where they ended up.

Will, wearing his pants, shirt in hand, stood regarding his lone boot lying on the floor beside him. "Elizabeth, where is my other boot?"

Elizabeth, who was just as diligently trying to locate her own clothing - but with less success - turned to him, amused, "I swear, it wasn't me this time."

Finally locating the wayward boot, Will slipped them both on. Once finished, he glanced over at Elizabeth to discover that she had at least found her pants.

Walking across the room to stand before him, she asked, "Will, have you seen my shirt?"

"Not in quite some time," he answered cheekily, pulling her to him by the waist. Moved at the site of his partially clad wife by baser instincts that even a long night's worth of lovemaking hadn't silenced, Will began to slide his hands from her waist up her ribcage to –

"Will," she scolded, fighting her own urges, "our son."

"Yes, yes. Our son," he replied with purpose, releasing her and taking several steps back.

"Oh, here it is," Elizabeth exclaimed brightly, gingerly bending to pluck the garment from the floor. Straightening up once more, she found her husband watching her intently, with a darkness in his eyes that she recognized quite well.

"Good God, Elizabeth," Will begged. "Put it on."

She smiled alluringly at him, running a teasing hand down his own bare chest. "Then put yours on – else we shall never leave this room."

With images of a family happily reunited playing in their minds, the two managed to dress the rest of the way, all save Will's bandana.

"Elizabeth, have you - - Never mind, I've found it," Will said, locating it strewn across the organ keys on the other side of the room.

"Yes," Elizabeth said sheepishly. "I believe I may have thrown it there sometime in the night in my eagerness to get at your hair."

Will finished tying his bandanna in place and turned to look at Elizabeth.

"Our son," they simultaneously replied.

* * *

Still kissing her husband, Elizabeth stepped backwards out on deck, running directly into Barbossa who, it appeared, had been waiting with Jack at their door.

"Missus Turner. Captain Turner," Barbossa addressed them. "I believe we have a little matter of business to settle."

"William!" Jack declared with trademark panache. "How goes the ferrying of souls? Did you have an enjoyable night?" he added in a lower, much more suggestive tone.

"Jack, it's good to see nothing's changed on the other side," Will retorted, arm still firmly around Elizabeth's waist, neither one quite able to let the other out of immediate grasp.

"I take it your wife informed you of why we're here," Barbossa went on, ignoring Jack.

"Yes, she did, but I think it only fair to - "

"Just give us the key, mate," Jack continued unfazed, "and we'll be on our merry little way. Or, then again, we could stay a day or two, if you're in the mood for a little more conjugal bliss. It's your call; either way - but give us the key."

"Jack," Elizabeth stepped in, annoyed, "there _is_ no key. Will hasn't the slightest idea of any of this."

Jack eyed the two carefully, as if trying to size up their plan. Barbossa had no such patience.

"Ahh, we thought you might say that," he stated superciliously. "That's why you'll find we have some plans of our own."

"What plans?" Elizabeth asked angrily.

"In the event," Barbossa continued, "that Captain Turner should be disinclined to acquiesce to our request, we have our ways of making him change his mind. What say ye, Jack?"

Recognizing his cue, Jack chimed in. "Yes. What Hector is _trying_ to get across, is we possess two very valuable things that your dear William will be willing to give us anything for – including a certain key of no particular value to himself."

"What things, Jack?" Will asked, his voice dangerous from the conclusion he'd already reached.

"Missus and Master Turner," Barbossa confirmed.

Will looked at him in such a matter that would have easily frightened his crew half to death, had they not already reached that state on their own.

"Ye see," Barbossa declared, "as I've oft said, it's not gettin' to the Land of the Dead that's the problem, it's gettin' back. And your wife and son have an urgent need to get back."

"And so do you," Will answered, voice hard as steel.

"And so we shall, but they needn't be aboard."

"Are you actually suggesting you'd leave us behind – to die?" Elizabeth asked, outraged. She turned to Jack. "You would really condemn a small boy to such a fate?"

Jack merely shrugged and looked away.

"I will _make_ you take them," Will stated severely. "I hope you and your crew are prepared to do battle with the _Flying Dutchman _– or, perhaps, not a one of you is quite man enough for that."

Barbossa snarled at him. "If we must meet our end here, so be it. Here's as good a place as any."

"How dare you threaten my son?!" Elizabeth cried lunging at him.

Will pulled her back, communicating a look to his wife that immediately silenced her. Will glanced over to Jack, studying him. At length he said, ""I once told you that I refused to be your leverage. The same is true for my wife and son. And I don't believe the man who gave up immortality to ensure their future happiness – neigh their very existence - would turn around and gladly watch them meet their end."

"If _I_ have to die, this time I'm not doin' it alone, mate," was Jack's only reply.

Elizabeth looked at him with pure hate.

"So what say ye, Turner?" Barbossa sneered. "You can kill us, sure enough, but that won't get your wife and child back. You can bring them yourself, 'tis true, but that would require you to leave, as well, corruptin' your purpose and leaving you no better off than Jones. Or, you could hand over the key."

"He already told you he doesn't know where it is," Elizabeth responded, quite ready to run him through and wishing she hadn't left her sword aboard the _Pearl_.

"Should that happen to be true," Barbossa replied, "I suggest ye stop wastin' time billin' and cooin'and arguin'- and start findin' it!"

Will looked to Jack again, then over to Elizabeth, before finally turning to Barbossa. "All right. There are no new passengers at the moment and no one left to ferry. So the _Dutchman_ will dock here. One day," Will continued resolutely. "We'll give you one day. Then we'll see who changes their mind first."

Barbossa wore a look of triumph; Jack's expression was unreadable. They both, however, seemed to accept this.

"In the mean time, you have full roam of _my_ ship. Search wherever you like," Will spat out, taking Elizabeth's hand and beginning to walk away from them. "I have nothing to hide."

Elizabeth followed Will, wordlessly, towards the steps which led below deck, presumably to where Bootstrap had taken William to rest for the night. Once they were beyond the earshot of Barbossa and Jack, she turned to Will.

"You're not actually going to go along with their plan?"

"They think I have. That's all that matters."

"Yes, but - Will, we never spoke of this last night, but I…. When I began this journey, all I thought of was _you_, seeing you and bringing our son to you – bringing the two of you together, as you both deserve….Sometimes I wonder if I was thinking at all."

"Elizabeth?" he asked tenderly, cupping his hand to her face, drawing her eyes to his.

Soothingly, she placed her hand over his, wordlessly conveying the message that it was beyond heaven being there with him and, despite everything, she had no regrets. "I just….I'm worried for William. We came to you in much the same manner you and I came to rescue Jack all those years ago." She paused, looking guiltily away. "Barbossa's right; now that we're here, the difficulty _is_ in returning. It will be a traumatic thing, flipping the _Pearl_ again – and dangerous. You remember what happened to some of the men before. What if I can't protect our son?" She laughed mirthlessly. "But I suppose it's all for naught, as they threaten not to take us back at all."

"Elizabeth, you made the right decision to come here. I'm alive when I'm with you in a way I haven't been in a _very_ long time. I can see in your eyes that it is the same for you."

"Yes," she replied, tracing a finger lovingly along his jaw. "But if - "

"Listen to me, Elizabeth. Our son is in no danger. I promise you. I know how to get you both safely back to the world of the living – and it doesn't involve Barbossa, or Jack, or even flipping the _Pearl_."

Confused, Elizabeth opened her mouth to question Will, but he placed a finger to her lips. "From time to time, souls arrive here that aren't meant to stay. I've thought about it a lot, and the best that I can determine is that these are the ones who've come very close to death, but somehow manage to pull through. Regardless of the explanation, somehow, I know it's not their time; they do not belong here. And, those that do not belong, I have the power to send back. I, alone. No idle threat can take that away."

"And you knew this all along?"

Will nodded.

"Then why agree to their demands?" she asked, riled once more, absolutely incensed that anyone would make threats against the life of their son. "Why not simply order them off your ship and tell them exactly what they can do with - "

"Because, my love," Will began, a smile tugging at his lips to see his wife still as strong and fiery as ever before, "I wished to avoid….unpleasantness. What do you think would have happened if I had said that to them? A battle would've inevitably ensued. You and I would eventually come out the winners, but I don't wish for such ugliness in the presence of our son, who is far too young to have to face such matters – even as those he already must on a daily basis," Will said, his eyes touched with a hint of sadness. "I expect to spend my one day with my wife and child occupied in much pleasanter things."

"But they _will_ demand you find the key."

"Yes, and to be honest with you, Elizabeth, I'm not even sure that one exists. If the inscriptions say so, it probably does, but I have no clue as to where it is. Somewhere aboard the ship, perhaps – at least that's what we'll have them believe. You, and I, and William will make a valiant effort to find it; it will be a grand adventure for us. And, if our search turns up nothing, no one can fault us for trying. They'll peacefully return to their world - as no one who seeks immortality as fiercely as they do really wishes to die - and I shall say goodbye to you both, for a little while, anyway. And no one shall be the worse for wear."

Elizabeth smiled happily, very much in love with her brilliant husband. "What if we should actually find this key of theirs?"

"Well, then I suppose the adventure will be grander than we planned." He paused to kiss her languidly. "Now, let us wake that son of ours - for his father has waited too long to properly meet him."

* * *


	17. The Turners

AN: Hunker down; this is a long one!

* * *

"There is only one happiness in life, to love and be loved."

- George Sand

* * *

Elizabeth tiptoed into the room, expecting to find her son 'still abed', as her father used to say. Instead, she discovered him happily playing on the floor, engaging Bootstrap in some sort of reenactment with the wooden counterparts of himself, his parents, and the ship they were, at last, aboard. 

Looking up and seeing his mother, William smiled. "Why didn't you tell me we'd found the _Dutchman_?" he asked excitedly. "This is my grandfather," he added.

"I know," Elizabeth answered laughingly, amused at his childish simplicity. "And there's someone else who's been waiting an awfully long time to meet you."

On cue, Will walked in to stand beside his wife. Upon his presence in the room, Elizabeth was promptly ignored. William studied him for an instant. Then his face brightened as luminous as the morning sun.

"Papa!" William cried, running to Will.

Will immediately knelt to his level, receiving his son in his arms, the force of which the little boy ran to him nearly knocking him over.

"Papa!" William repeated, snuggling into his father's embrace.

For a long moment, the two simply held each other, marveling at the opportunity to do so after all this time, as Elizabeth looked on in tears. Will held William's head to his shoulder, his hand lost in a sea of unruly curls, amazed anew at how very much like his own they were. At length, having quenched their need for physical contact, the two slowly pulled back to better regard one anther.

To William, his father appeared every inch the pirate. His Captain's bandana was firmly in place, curls protruding beneath. He wore the necklace his mother had told him of, the earring and sash…..and – yes – there were the black boots! He was everything William had ever expected, and more. Will had been worried that he wouldn't live up to his son's images of him, but he needn't have bothered, for William was thrilled by the man who stood before him.

Suddenly, though, William was struck with a sense of awe in the presence of such a great man, one who had committed such feats of conning, bravery, and skill. Here was the man who had heroically rescued his mother from cursed, undead pirates. Here was the man who had courageously fought the fierce and colossal kraken. Here was the man who had slain the inhuman, heartless Davy Jones, and rid the seas of the evils of Lord Cutler Beckett. Here was the man who now fulfilled the equally noble duty of escorting those who had died to the next world, to be with their families. What would this hero, this pirate – his idol since birth – think of such a little boy as himself?

Yet, there was a softness in the eyes of the _Dutchman_'s captain that made William feel at ease and, just as suddenly, the boy knew that Will was much more - so much better - than all of those things: he was simply his _father_, looking into the eyes of the young son that he loved more than life itself.

"Mama says I look just like you," William told him shyly.

"And so you do," Will replied, tenderly brushing the hair from his son's face. "Though, I believe you have a bit of your mother's smile."

The movement of his arm caused Will's shirt to fall away, revealing his scarred chest, which William immediately noticed. His brow crinkling into a frown, William extended his little hand and lightly, ever so gently, traced his father's scar with his finger – knowing that it represented all that his father had been through, all that he still endured, knowing it was the symbol of what would continue to keep them apart for years into the future.

"I'm sorry," William said softly, truly feeling sad for the pain his father had experienced, his childish mind reasoning – not entirely in error – that sympathy and a loving hug were always in order whenever a person had been hurt.

Will smiled warmly at his son, tears filling his eyes, as he gathered William closer to him. "Don't be, for it's all worked out wonderfully, hasn't it?"

At this, William nodded and returned his father's smile. "I love you, Papa," he said with pure sincerity.

"I love _you_, my son," Will replied, heart in his voice, as he brought the child back into his embrace.

After a moment, William pulled back, happily regarding his father once more, before asking with hopeful eyes, "How long can we stay here with you?"

"A day, and then you must return home."

"But you still can't be with us," William stated, his face falling a little.

"No, William, I can't," Will told him. "But soon I _shall_ be with you, and I promise never to leave you and your mother again."

"But I can be with you today," William replied joyfully. "The whole day?"

"The entire day. Just for the three of us," Will pledged with gravity, extending his arm out to Elizabeth, who joined him at his side.

"Good," William said. "I have so many things to tell you. Mama hasn't let me talk to you in a very long time."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to remind her son that it was for a good reason, but he stopped her before she could.

"And I know," he said turning to his mother, "it was to protect the Chest from bad people, but still. It means I've got a lot saved up to tell Papa."

"I understand," Elizabeth replied careful to remain quite serious. "Of course, you must."

"I have many things I wish to share with you, too, William," Will added, taking his son's hand firmly in his own, the other arm around his wife's waist. "And how lucky we all are, for we also get to partake in a treasure hunt."

"A treasure hunt?" William asked, eyes wide with excitement, much like his mother at that age, always fascinated to hear about anything remotely connected to pirates and piracy – even more so, as his beloved father was a pirate himself.

"Yes," Will confirmed. "We must search the ship high and low for something of great value to many people."

"Captain Jack's key?" William asked.

Will and Elizabeth exchanged a look of amazement, both ever impressed at their son's wisdom and intelligence.

"Yes," his mother confirmed. "We're going to look for Captain's Jack key."

"Great!" William said, excited at the notion of hidden treasure. "And you'll look with me?" he asked hopefully, looking to Will, not wanting to be out of his father's presence for one instant more than he must.

"Yes, I'll be with you," Will told him overwhelmed with love and pride that his son so wished to be near him. "I won't let anything stop me from spending whatever time I can with you."

"I know I'm quite ordinary," Elizabeth teased, "but I hope you don't mind if I join you."

"Of course not, Mama," William giggled.

"You are anything but ordinary, my love," Will whispered, softly kissing her cheek.

The trio began to make their way above deck and begin their 'grand adventure' when William suddenly stopped, bringing his mother and father to a confused halt. The boy turned back to Bootstrap, who had been observing the tender scene in silence – with more than a little guilt at his own shortcomings as a father.

"You can come, too, Grandfather," he said.

"I – I wouldn't want to intrude," Bootstrap awkwardly replied.

William laughed, holding out his hand to the man. "But your Papa's Papa. A Papa can't 'intrude'. You always want your Papa."

Bootstrap gratefully took his young grandson's hand and allowed him to lead them from the room. Nevertheless, as the boy scampered ahead to his parents, though he continued to follow, he did so at a discreet distance.

"I'm so happy we found you when we did," William said to his father, as Will hoisted him into his arms, carrying him up the steps. "Tomorrow is my birthday; I'll be five. And now I can spend at least a little of it with you before we have to go."

"Yes, I know, and I'm very glad to finally be with you on your birthday," Will replied, gently kissing his son's nose before setting him down.

"Papa!" William laughed, wiping his nose. "Now, you and me and Mama will find the treasure," he said with the authority of the inevitable leader that he was, considering the parents that he had. "And then we can get to sharing all the things we've saved up."

* * *

Mid-morning became mid-afternoon, as Will, Elizabeth, and William searched every nook and cranny of the _Flying Dutchman_, ultimately turning up nothing – despite the fact that William had gone back to his grandfather's cabin to procure their little wooden likenesses to aid in the search. Still, none of the three cared that they were, as yet, empty handed for, as much as they enjoyed themselves, it wasn't actually finding the key that mattered to them so much as the sport of the adventure. After all, this was the first thing they had ever done as a family. 

As they searched, they talked about everything that friends and family who have been apart for any length of time discuss when finally reunited. They spoke of the amazing progresses in William's early education, under the tutelage of his mother. William picked up where he had left off in his conversations with his father, telling him of the unfortunate end that had met his pet crab, of his daily beggings to Elizabeth that she replace it with a small puppy and - better still - of his hope to, instead, have a baby brother or sister to play with.

When Will blanched slightly at the suggestion, still as yet unaccustomed to dealing with such embarrassments that naturally flow from the innocent mind of a child, Elizabeth stepped in adding, with a slight tone of admonishment mixing with her amusement, "Of course you know, William, I've told you time and again, until your father returns, there shall be no new babies. So there's no use in trying to guilt him and usurp my authority."

Turning to Will with a naughty gleam in her eye, knowing full well the reaction she would get, Elizabeth continued, "However, once he _is_ back, I promise, we will work _awfully_ hard to make that come true for you – day and night, if necessary."

As predicted, Will's face immediately reddened as, discomforted, he turned to his son to gage the little boy's reaction. William, who was oblivious to the adult subtext of his mother's suggestion, merely happily replied, "Good, because I really want a little brother – maybe even a little sister."

Around tea time, mother, father, and son decided to take a break from their search. As the _Dutchman_'s cook prepared a fine picnic lunch for the Captain and his family, the three stood on deck enjoying the sunshine and light breeze. As morbid as one would think it ought to be, this world was eerily like their own, and it wasn't difficult for Will and Elizabeth to imagine they were simply on a day cruise, somewhere off the shores of Port Royal.

As Jack, Barbossa, Pintel, Ragetti, and various other crew members that could be spared from the _Pearl _continued to busily search the _Dutchman_, Will took the opportunity to present his son with a long awaited gift.

"William, I – I have a present for you," he began with a certain amount of nervousness, truly hoping his young son would like his offering.

"For _me_, Papa?" William asked, thrilled at the notion.

"Yes. I began working on it the day you were born. I hadn't thought I'd be able to give it to you for a few more years but, since you are here," Will said, withdrawing the item in question from behind his back, "I can give it to you now."

William's eyes widened with delight – not only a gift from his Papa, but a sword of all things! As Will held it out for him to take, William reached out his own hand, so tiny next to his father's, and reverently held the sword. Will brought his other hand from behind his back to reveal a slightly larger, wooden duplicate.

"I made one for you and one for myself so that, when I came back, I might teach you the skills of proper swordplay. For now, you take your sword back with you, and I will give this one to your mother and, while I'm away, she will begin to show you the basic skills," Will instructed.

William nodded, listening to his father with rapt attention. "Mama fights at swords very well," he replied. With mirth he added, "She's says it's because she had such a good teacher."

Their son's remark earned Elizabeth a less than chaste look from her husband before he continued. "When I return, I will complete your training with a _real_ sword," he told William, knowing of the boy's desire for one. "Actually, this way will be even better for, when I come back, you will be ready to move on to more challenging skills – and you'll be old enough to do so."

"Will you make it yourself, Papa?" William asked hopefully. "Mama says you make the _very_ best swords."

Will smiled. "If you wish, son."

Will began to teach his son the basics of sword fighting, beginning with the correct hold of the weapon and the proper stance. Elizabeth stood, looking on, when Jack and Barbossa approached her.

"Whot's this?" Barbossa asked. "In case ye hadn't noticed, this is a ghost ship, not a nursery."

"And I'm still quite without my key," Jack interjected.

"Oh, let them alone," she exclaimed. "Will's given you leave to search the ship high and low - even employed the crew in helping at the task. It isn't our fault if you cave was simply mistaken."

Barbossa scowled and walked off. Jack stood for a moment, watching the two William Turners play at swords. Elizabeth eyed him suspiciously. If she didn't know better, she'd swear that the mighty Captain Jack Sparrow was touched by this scene of father-son bonding. Before she could question him on the matter, however, Jack thrust her sword at her.

"Here," he said gruffly. "You left this on me _Pearl_." Then, he too went back about the search.

Shaking her head in wonder, she set down her sword and went to work spreading a sheet across the wooden planks of a corner of the _Dutchman_'s deck. Task completed to her satisfaction, Elizabeth called her men over. "It appears our lunch is ready. Now both of you come and eat before it spoils."

All three set about enjoying a family meal, delighting in such a mundane activity, for it was one in a long list of firsts they were experiencing that day. William gobbled down his lunch, as all boys of nearly five years old are want to do, so he might go about playing on the ship. As his mother and father had long since outgrown that skill, they still had much of their own lunches to finish. Bootstrap happily volunteered to look after the boy while they ate, taking him around the ship and teaching him the proper nautical terms for all the things he saw, as Will and Elizabeth looked on in pride from their vantage point, snuggled very closely together.

Will turned to Elizabeth, breaking their momentary reverie. "Thank you for giving me a perfect son," he said, lovingly kissing her cheek. "William is amazing. I credit that to you. You've raised him well."

"You credit me with too much. William is naturally amazing on account of being _your_ son," Elizabeth replied, lightly kissing his lips in return. Suddenly, her eyes turned serious, intense with purpose. "I know our time together is growing short, Will….I must tell you before I go. As soon as I discovered I was carrying our child, I knew what you would be feeling. Joy, of course – but I know you too well not to realize there would be guilt mixed with your elation – no matter how unwarranted."

Will opened his mouth to reply, but Elizabeth gently stopped him with a hand upon his arm.

"Will, I cannot bear the thought of you wondering if we are safe and cared for. It breaks my heart to think you already have, as we journeyed here to you…..You have always endeavored to care for me, to see after my every need and desire, to ensure my safety – even when I made that quite difficult – since we were twelve years old," Elizabeth continued, smiling at the memory. "I need you to know that William and I lead a good life. We want for nothing, save your presence - and we shall speak to you every night to ensure you know this. William will grow into a fine young boy, and his father will be there for him emotionally until he can be there for him physically."

Will beamed with pride at the wife who knew him so well. "I love you, Elizabeth," he replied, for there was nothing else to say. Reaching across to gather her into his arms, Will's eyes caught the reflection of the sun on Elizabeth's sword, which lie unheeded next to them. "You've found your sword."

Elizabeth ran her hand reverently along the blade. It was perfection, as it could only be, Will having made it especially for her all those years ago. "Actually, Jack brought it to me," she answered, eyebrows raised, still somewhat baffled at their earlier interaction.

Taking Elizabeth's hand in his, Will helped her up. Placing his hand on the hilt of his own sword, he withdrew the weapon and looked pointedly at her. "May I have this dance?"

Elizabeth smiled archly. "It's been _far_ too long."

Their impromptu sword practice quickly drew their son's attention, as well as that of much of the crew, who were impressed by the grace and fluidity of which the two opposed one another.

Thrilled to see his mother and father fight alongside each other, as he had often heard in stories, William looked on in wonderment, thinking back on everything he had discovered on this truly monumental day. Meeting his father had, of course, been exciting, amazing, and just plain wonderful. On the other hand, William felt as if he'd known his father his entire life. Finally seeing him in person simply confirmed the things he had always known.

It was the changes in his mother that sincerely mystified him. In the past hours, William had witnessed a completely new and different side of her. Elizabeth had always been an attentive and loving mother. William could find nothing wanting in his Mama's treatment of him. Yet, there often seemed to be a sadness in her that she always tried to hide from him, but he was far too clever and in-tune to her spirit not to see that she was hurting and longing for his Papa.

Today, with Papa beside her, she seemed to come fully alive. There wasn't a trace of sadness in her - nothing but joy, exuberance, and playful happiness. Throughout the day, William had often observed his Mama reaching up and kissing his father's cheek and jaw. Or Papa would bend down to kiss Mama's ear and throat - when they thought no one was looking. Even as they went up and down, through every last cabin and hold on the _Flying Dutchman,_ searching for Captain Jack's key, Mama always seemed to be holding Papa's hand, or his arm would be around her waist.

From time to time, William played with some of the little girls in the village where they lived – although, not as often as the boys, for the girls seemed a somewhat silly lot, not at all like his mother. They would always want to tell him of the handsome princes – sometime even pretend he was one of the them! – and the lovely princesses from their storybooks. Now, seeing his mother and father behave so together, William reasoned, theirs must be a _very_ great love, like in all of those fairytales. Surprisingly, for a boy of his age, he didn't find the thought the least bit distasteful.

Turning his attention back to the "swordfight" being waged before his eyes, he waited with baited breath to see who would come out the winner.

The two continued on, oblivious to any onlookers. However, Will could always best Elizabeth at swordplay when he really tried and, at length, satisfied with the match they'd had, he trapped her against the mast, his sword ever so gently placed against her throat. The electricity passing between them was evident, even to the small crowd that had gathered about the deck to watch their display.

"Will you surrender?" Will asked.

"Never," Elizabeth replied breathlessly, enjoying the game as much now as ever before. "I shall never give you the satisfaction."

Will gave her a licentious look, allowing his free hand to follow the curve of her hip. "Ahh, but that's not how you felt last night." With a kiss to her nose, he lowered his sword. "Or this morning, might I add."

Elizabeth regarded him for a moment, roused by his evocative, flirtatious behavior. Sauntering past him, she whispered in his ear, "We _will_ finish this tonight."

Will felt his body respond to her proximity, coupled by her suggestive promise. From the beginning of their courtship, Elizabeth was always something of a vixen, enjoying making him want her, loving her ability to push him past the brink of self-control – and reveling in the results. Nevertheless, she was right; this game would have to be postponed until that evening, as their son – and the search – awaited them.

Elizabeth walked over to a laughing William, ruffling his hair. "I thought Papa always let you win?" he questioned.

"Not since I started making him fight fairly." She added, with a decadent sigh, "When he applies himself, your papa _always_ has the advantage over me."

William curiously regarded his flushed father, who now stood beside his mother, giving her a somewhat pleading look.

After taking a deep breath, Will bent and picked up his son, hoisting him onto his shoulders. "Come, I'll teach you to climb the rigging."

"Ooohh," William replied in excitement. "Mama never lets me do that!"

* * *

AN#2: Thank you, again, for all of your reviews. In response to a reviewer who asked about the length of this story, I originally planned on it having 20 chapters. Now, I've decided to add on a sort of epilogue. So, that means there are four chapters left. 


	18. Cleverness

* * *

"It is little that one gains by cleverness."

- Unknown

* * *

Will, Elizabeth, and William spent the remainder of the afternoon being every inch the happily reunited family the two had earlier imagined. At his request, in addition to the basics of sword fighting, William also learned the fundamentals to captaining a ship from his exceedingly proud and doting father, who was more than thrilled to take him about the _Dutchman_ showing him off to the crew who, in turn, all agreed he was an extremely remarkable young boy.

As afternoon dwindled into early evening, at the not-so-gentle insistence of Barbossa and Jack, the Turners resumed their halfhearted search for the key. In spite of how fruitless their search had been, and continued to be, William enjoyed any game that involved both of his parents with him. For Will and Elizabeth's part, curiosity had gotten the better of them both, and they genuinely wished to know if a key was actually hidden somewhere aboard the ship.

"Do you think it's not real, then?" Elizabeth asked Will as they finished their second sweep of the _Dutchman_'s final hold, again, turning up nothing.

"I honestly don't know. I've lived aboard this ship for nearly six years, some of the crew long before that, and not once have any of us heard of the whereabouts – or even the existence – of such a key," Will told his wife as they watched Barbossa walk past, eyeing them suspiciously. "It renders Jack's story implausible, but not entirely impossible."

"Yes, but where is there left to search? Where could a key possibly be hidden that no one would happen upon it in all that time?" Elizabeth questioned, utterly baffled.

Will merely shrugged, equally puzzled. William came bounding up to his parents, stopping at his father's side.

"And did you find anything, William?" Will asked him, placing an arm about his son's shoulders.

"No," he responded with a slightly disappointed shake of the head. "But I'm going to look over….there," he added, pointing towards the mast. "Maybe it's hiding in the floor. Then I can find it better; I'm smaller."

Will smiled affectionately at him. "That's a fine idea, son."

With a proud grin, William scampered off to search the floorboards.

"You know, Will, he's just reminded me of something Jack told me after we'd just set sail," Elizabeth said. "From what he described to me of the cave that supposedly holds the Fountain, I'm not sure we should be looking for a key, at all – not in the traditional sense. Jack never said he found a lock - such as on a door, or on the Chest – merely a spherical indentation in the rock which he believed was connected to the removal of the wall."

"I don't understand," Will replied. "So you're saying there really is no key."

"No," Elizabeth reasoned, "only that William may be right. We may be looking for something smaller or, at least, differently shaped….Perhaps something akin to the mechanism used to wind the clock in Father's study. You remember the one?"

"Yes," Will said, considering this new information. "If that's the case, it could be nothing more than a small rod with a handle attached – not even a handle, depending on how crudely it was constructed. We could have easily overlooked _that._ Any one of us may have found it and never realized what it was. One of the crew may have even disposed of it."

Elizabeth frowned, wryly adding, "Barbossa would love that….But it all may mean nothing. We have yet to discover if a key actually exists."

"Nevertheless, I can't help thinking there's an ironic truth in Calypso placing control of the Fountain - therefore, power over life, death, and immortality - with the vessel that carries souls on to their final resting place," Will contemplated. "And, if something of that importance really was hidden aboard the _Dutchman, _I imagine it would be hidden well. There remains a chance that what everyone is searching for is still here, right beneath our noses."

The two pondered this in silence as their son came to join them.

"I didn't find anything in the floor," William told them glumly.

His mother reassuringly patted his arm.

"Perhaps," Will said, suddenly alighting on a new idea, "much like Sao Feng's navigational charts, there is some secret clue within the inscription."

Elizabeth perked up at the thought. "It always did strike me as a bit of a riddle, very curiously worded. Of course, some of that could be in the translation."

"Do you remember exactly what it said?"

Elizabeth's eyes brightened. "I have a copy of it," she exclaimed excitedly. "Jack gave it to me, in the event I might need to 'persuade you' intellectually. It was in my pocket. I found it on the floor this morning when I was searching for my pants."

William looked curiously from his mother to his father. "You lost your pants, Mama?"

"I - I undressed hurriedly last night - in a haste to get to bed," Elizabeth stammered in an attempt to cover her faux pas, only reddening further at the memory of their 'haste'. "That is, it had been a very trying day, William."

The boy nodded. "I was really tired, too."

Elizabeth shot Will a relieved look. "Anyhow, I laid it on your desk. It should still be there now. Come, William, let's look in Papa's room, once more."

Her son obediently headed towards the cabin. "You never said, Mama. What do I win if I find the treasure?"

"Perhaps we can renegotiate our puppy discussion."

"Really?!" he said excitedly, skipping into his father's cabin.

Just outside the door, Will held Elizabeth back, whispering in her ear, "All these ways Jack prepared for you to 'persuade me'. I thought he knew me better than that where you're concerned. Whatever you wish, you need only ask."

Turning to him, Elizabeth softly stroked Will's jaw, fingertips soon moving to play about his lips, as husband and wife allowed themselves a moment to get completely lost in one another's eyes.

"Talk like that, Captain, could turn a girl's head." Will's response was to pull Elizabeth into his arms, holding her tightly to him. "But," she continued drolly, wiggling from his grasp, "we have a key to find - and we must let nothing distract us from that course!"

Will reluctantly nodded and followed her into his cabin.

"Now," Elizabeth said, retrieving the slip of paper from its resting place and handing it to Will, "here is a copy of the inscription."

"_The door to eternal life is barred_," he read aloud. "_The key to immortality lies with the Ferrier of Mortal Soul_s."

"Which is most certainly you."

"Aye."

Elizabeth smiled at his unwitting use of a very piratey term. "So, which part of that could be a clue?"

"_The door is barred_," Will repeated. "_The __key to immortality lies with the Ferrier of Mortal Souls_. _The key to_ - "

"Papa?" William interrupted, scooting down from his place on his father's cot, somewhat bored with the proceedings, despite his hopes for a puppy.

"Yes, son?"

"May I play your organ?"

Will gave him a quizzical smile. "You play?"

Elizabeth turned to Will. "I've begun his lessons on our piano at home."

Will ruffled his son's hair as the boy giggled. "This _is_ awfully dull, isn't it?" he asked. "Go ahead. No one's made use of it in years. Not a one aboard knows how to play."

William hurried over and climbed up to the organ, hitting a note experimentally. Instead of the tinkling he was used to from his own piano, he was met with a deep, loud blare. He jumped, taken aback at the sound.

"Poor, darling," Elizabeth said soothingly. "It was a bit of a shock for you, wasn't it?"

Despite himself, Will couldn't help a small smile. "It's alright, son. It's meant to sound that way."

Quickly recovering, slightly embarrassed at his childish display, William went back to absentmindedly tapping at the organ while his parents puzzled over the inscription.

"The key to immortality lies with the Ferrier of Mortal Souls," Will repeated, thinking aloud. "The key to immortality….The key to immortality…..The key…..The key lies with the Ferrier of Mortal Souls…..The key lies with the Ferrier…..The key lies….The key lies….The key _lies_. The key _lies_ with the Ferrier."

"The key _lies_ with the Ferrier!" Elizabeth said, catching on. "What _lies_ with you – besides me, occasionally?" she added with mischievous eyes.

"The key lies _with_ the Ferrier," Will continued. "Where do I lie?"

"Here?"

"Exactly, and Jones before me, and whoever will follow me," Will replied. "Every Ferrier of Mortal Souls lies _here_ in the Captain's Cabin, and the key lies with them – not figuratively, but literally. It must be somewhere within this room."

Elizabeth regarded him with pride, an elated smile upon her lips. "Of course. And we've looked here the least."

Will nodded. "I assumed I'd know if there was anything in here. I still can't imagine where it could be hidden in this room….Perhaps, William was right. It _could_ be in the floorboards."

Will dropped to his knees and began scrutinizing the floor of his cabin in a way he never had in all his time as Captain. Elizabeth reached for the paper her husband had discarded, picking apart the riddle in much the same way he had just done.

"_The door to eternal life is barred_," she read. "The door is barred….The key to immortality….The key - "

"It's good to hear music again," Bootstrap said stepping into the room. Glancing at Elizabeth, he apologized for his interruption. "I'm sorry to barge in like that. I only wondered who was playing."

Elizabeth smiled at him kindly, placing her hand upon his arm. "Not at all. Join us," she said.

Looking up from his inspection, Will smiled encouragingly to his father. Thus welcomed, Bootstrap walked over to William. "My boy, I had no idea what I find musician you were."

William giggled. "Grandfather, I only know how to play the scales!"

"Still, they sound grand when you play them."

With such positive reception from Bootstrap, William continued on, as his parents went back to their search, Will at the floorboards, Elizabeth with the inscription.

"They key," she repeated. "The key….The key…..The door is barred….. Barred…._Bar_…. The key could be a bar, as we've said," she continued to muse aloud. "The key…..Key…… A bar and a key…."

William hit a particularly jarring note, filling the cabin with a thundering blat. "Sorry," he muttered. "I don't think that was right."

Bootstrap merely chuckled and encouraged him to continue.

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "Wait a minute….Will!"

Will looked up and, seeing his wife's excited state, went to her side. "What is it?"

"_Bar_ and _key_," she said. "What if it's speaking of music?"

Will digested this. "The organ?"

"Why not?" Elizabeth asked. "It's as good a place as any to hide something."

"Maybe," Will replied.

The two walked over to stand beside Bootstrap and their son, who sat upon the bench continuing to play, oblivious to their breakthrough. Will and Elizabeth regarded the mammoth instrument in silence; William's scales the only sound penetrating the air.

"Maybe," Will said, at length, sounding much surer. "Perhaps it's a _better_ place than any. No one was allowed to touch the thing in Jones' day, were they Father?"

Bootstrap looked up at his son. "The organ?"

Will nodded.

"Aye. Jones would never let anyone near it. Few ever had permission to so much as enter this chamber."

"And I've certainly never touched it, nor any of the crew. We've had no use for it," Will continued.

"But where do we begin? Must we dismantle it?" Elizabeth asked, peering into a pipe. She was met with a burst of air in the face.

Will smirked.

"William, darling, could you please stop playing for the time being? Papa and I must examine the organ."

"Yes, Mama," he replied. "This key is stuck, anyway," he said, gesturing toward a key on the far right, before hopping down from the bench.

Bootstrap frowned. "Jones was obsessed with playing. I'm surprised he never noticed and forced someone to fix it. 'Course it could be some new damage from the past years."

Will leaned over and struck the key, but no sound emitted forth. He looked over to Elizabeth, bowing to her superior musical expertise. She walked over and, following suit, pressed on the key.

She shook her hand. "It's not even pushing down. It feels strange, quite hard," she replied, running her fingers along the rest of the keys, in comparison, and easily drawing forth sound from them. "Will, I think it's a false key."

"A false key?"

"Yes, not a key at all, but made to look like one, in order to _hide_ something," she answered triumphantly.

Will looked at her questioningly. Nevertheless, he withdrew his father's knife from his boot, and began prying at the key, attempting to lift it out of place. Elizabeth, William, and Bootstrap looked on in suspense. Suddenly, with a great force, the key gave way, flying into the air. Beneath it, much as Elizabeth had suspected, was a tiny, hollowed out compartment, wherein lied a small, brass bar with a perfectly spherical tip.

"The key?" Elizabeth whispered.

Will attempted to retrieve the bar from within the compartment, but his fingers were too large to fit. "Son, how would you like to 'unbury' the treasure?"

"Wow," William said, climbing back atop the bench and easily reaching in to grab the bar, handing it to his father.

"Jack will be pleased," Bootstrap replied.

"Yes," Will agreed, looking to Elizabeth worriedly. "But, now, what do we do with it?"

William looked up, eyes suddenly large, as an idea dawned on him. "Does this mean I get a puppy?"

* * *


	19. Forgiveness

* * *

"There is no love without forgiveness, and there is no forgiveness without love."

- Bryant H. McGill

* * *

Will, Elizabeth, and Bootstrap remained in the captain's cabin for some time, contemplating the gravity of the situation whilst keeping William entertained with his wooden figures. None of them dared leave the room until they had formulated a plan. No one aboard the _Dutchman_ or the _Pearl _was yet aware that the key had been found and, for the time being, it was best to keep it that way. Still, they knew this ignorance wouldn't last. Already, they had lingered long enough to draw suspicion.

So the question remained: What would Will do with the key? Who should he give it to? Should he give it away at all? In order to one day be reunited with his family, he was determined to do his proper duty as Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_. Since the key to the Fountain of Youth was hidden – and very well – aboard his ship, Will reasoned that part of his duty must extend to protecting and overseeing the use of the Fountain. After all, whoever had control over the Fountain would have an enormous amount of power over life and death in the realm of the living. If Will had been completely at liberty, he would have said it was best to simply leave the key alone; put it back where they had found it and hand it over to no one. Yet, he knew far too well that if the others became aware of his concealment the end result would likely be violence – with his family caught in the middle. Less important in the grand scheme of things, but weighing heavily on the minds of both Will and Elizabeth, was the knowledge that, as soon as Barbossa, Jack and company got what they came for, they would leave immediately. Thus ending whatever small amount of time their lonely, broken family had together.

At length, they determined they would have to give the key to someone. There seemed no way around it. Barbossa would likely never accept their lie and, even if he did, believing that immortality was out of his grasp, he was bound to turn to desperate measures. Still, Will and Elizabeth weren't willing to let each other go just yet, so they developed a plan of delay.

With a nod of encouragement from Will, Elizabeth opened the door to find Barbossa pacing just outside. Jack was not far behind, but he'd taken a much more leisurely stance.

"And what have ye been up to all this time?" Barbossa growled, suspicion thick in his eyes.

"Were it not for the presence of the lad and ol' Bootstrap here, I could easily answer that question," Jack quipped with an amused grin, ever his own biggest fan.

William's face scrunched up in confusion. "What does he mean, Mama?"

"Pay no attention to Jack, darling," Elizabeth told her son. "I doubt he understands his own self half the time."

With a shrug, William plopped down at his father's feet, content to return to playing with the model of the very ship he sat upon while his parents sorted out this mess with the key. It seemed pirating became much less interesting once the treasure was found. After that, it was all negotiations, a very boring business in his young opinion.

Looking up from his son, Will's face hardened. "I have your key."

This statement abruptly caught everyone's attention.

"Aye, and likely have had it all along," Barbossa answered.

The eyes of the crew of both ships turned to Jack, waiting for whatever pearl of wisdom he planned on countering with, but they were disappointed, as the Captain was suddenly all seriousness.

"What is it you plan to do next, William?" he asked.

"Hold on to it," Will replied with surety. "At least, for a time."

Jack did not seem to be surprised by this statement. Barbossa, on the other hand, was furious.

"What do you want?" he asked. "Ye must plan on tradin' it for something. Make no mistake, Turner, I intend to have it."

"I'm sure you do," Will coldly replied. "But things don't always work out as we intend, a lesson I live daily."

This brought Elizabeth's eyes back to Will as she placed a soothing hand upon his arm. He gave her a look of reassurance in exchange.

"You ask what I demand," Will continued. "The night."

The faces of the crew - all but Jack - registered confusion.

"Give us the rest of the night, unhindered and uninterrupted. You return to the _Pearl_, and Elizabeth and our son stay here with me," Will proposed. "In the morning, we make an exchange: I hand over the key, you take my family back to the world of the living."

"A sound enough plan," Barbossa spat, "except that I don't intend on risking my life so that you might enjoy another night of connubial pleasure."

Will's eyes narrowed, but he refused to acknowledge the insult. "You are not risking your life or anyone else's. It is still safe to leave in the morning."

"Is it now? You'll have to forgive me if I don't want to be takin' that chance," Barbossa replied.

"I think you forget who you're dealing with," Will answered severely, stepping closer to him. "You _will_ stay the night. Only in the morning will you depart with the key. Now, I leave it to you to return to the _Black Pearl_ and fight amongst yourselves over who gets it."

Barbossa scowled at him. However, he seemed to see the wisdom in obeying. While Will lacked the gruesome appearance of his predecessor, he held the same power. Moreover, he raised an excellent point. There was more than one foe to be dealt with. Without a word, he turned and ordered the crew back to the _Pearl_.

One by one, they slowly began to shuffle off. Gibbs looked to his captain, who had been silent, but watchful, throughout the exchange. Jack nodded his confirmation and Gibbs, too, made his way back to the _Pearl_.

The _Dutchman_ thus eradicated of unwanted visitors, Will turned his attention back to his wife, half expecting to meet her disapproval at his harshness. Instead, Elizabeth looked at him with palpable hunger, her interest piqued by his formidable demeanor. Will couldn't help but be amused; she always had been drawn to pirates. Nevertheless, he made a mental note of this information for later use.

As twilight began to fall upon the ship, Elizabeth inched closer to Will, her tone of voice making her mood apparent. "Your plan seems to have worked perfectly."

Will opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by his son's audible yawn. Laughing, Elizabeth knelt down to William.

"You've had an exciting day, haven't you?" she asked affectionately. "Sword fighting, hidden treasure - "

"Meeting Papa," William supplied.

"Yes," Elizabeth smiled, momentarily averting her eyes back to her husband. "Most of all, meeting Papa."

They held the gaze - until another yawn broke their reverie.

"In spite of all that excitement, it's time for boys your age to be in bed, isn't it?" Elizabeth asked.

"Maybe," William acknowledged, adding with assurance, " 'Course tomorrow I'll be a year older, so the time won't come 'til later."

His mother raised an eyebrow, but his father couldn't keep a small laugh from escaping.

"At least, can Papa tuck me in?" William asked.

"Yes, Papa will tuck you in," Will happily replied, scooping up his son.

William squealed with delight as his father carried him off. "Wait! Don't forget our wooden selves."

Will stopped abruptly, answering with reverence, "Ahh, yes. How could I forget?" He bent to pick up their likenesses as William stretched in his father's arms to grab the wooden _Dutchman_.

William took the figures from Will, placing Elizabeth and himself atop the ship, but lingering a moment over his father's figure. "I always did like you the best, Papa," he told Will, holding up the figure for his inspection.

Will brought it closer to his face, examining it. "Yes, I _am_ rather dashing."

William broke into a peel of giggles as Will carried him below deck. Once in Bootstrap's room, Will laid William upon the makeshift cot, sitting down beside him.

Will's brow furrowed in concern as a thought occurred to him. "Tell me, son, does it bother you sleeping here, in a strange place, away from your mother and I? If it does, you know you can sleep with us."

William considered this. "No," he answered finally. "The _Dutchman _isn't strange. It's where you live. And, at home, I have my own room and Mama has hers." He paused in thought for a moment, working it all out. "My friends who have both Mamas _and_ Papas say they share a room. So it's right for me to sleep here, in _my_ room, and Mama to sleep in _your_ room and, when you get home, _she_ will let you share _her_ room."

Will nodded. "That sounds like a good plan," he reassured.

William looked up at his father with pleading eyes. "But do I have to go to sleep _right_ now? I'm not so very - " a yawn interrupted his statement – "tired."

"No, I suppose you don't," Will said, smiling. "Sword masters always insist on a full night's sleep but, if you'd rather - "

"No," William replied with earnest. "I want to be a sword master, like you. I'll go to sleep," he said, snuggling in for the night. "Will I still see you in the morning, Papa?"

Will looked at his son with sadness in his eyes. "For a little while."

"Good. I want to see you on my birthday. That was my wish," William said confidentially. His attention momentarily captured, he looked at Will in contemplation. Slowly reaching up, he curiously touched the gold hoop that adorned his father's ear. "I want an earring like yours when I'm older," he stated.

Will chuckled. "We shall see." Will studied his son's face intently, storing up every last detail. At length, carefully watching for his reaction, Will began to ask his son the one thing he desperately needed to know. "You'll be five tomorrow, William…..Already, you're such a young man."

"Nearly fully grown," William interjected.

Will smiled, but it quickly faded as he returned to the dreaded question at hand. "Can you…..Will you ever forgive me for missing so much? For not being there with you all the times you need me?"

William looked at his father oddly. "But why, Papa? You can't help it," he said, his voice filled with mirth at the ridiculousness of Will's question.

Relief flooded Will's face as he bent closer to William. "Of course, son. Whatever was I thinking?"

"I don't know," William said laughingly, wrapping his arms about his father's neck and pulling him into a hug.

* * *

AN: I've reworked my outline a little for purposes of clarity and flow (which explains why this chapter is a bit shorter and the next with likely be a bit long). It looks like there will now be 22 chapters, instead of the original 20-21 I had planned. Also, due to the holiday, I'm going to try to update a little earlier next week. Look for a new chapter in the next few days. One last thing, I've very close to 200 reviews and would love to reach that milestone. I always read your reviews and take them to heart. In truth, they thrill me. So please, please, please keep them coming. 


	20. Love

AN#1: Here is the next chapter, accompanied by a bit of a warning. Will and Elizabeth do have some adult moments in this chapter. I don't consider them strong enough to warrant a higher rating but, if you're squeamish about such things, consider yourself warned.

* * *

"I desired my dust to be mingled with yours,

Forever and forever and forever."

- Li Po

* * *

Will stepped back out on deck just as the sun was making its final descent. Elizabeth stood leaning against the _Dutchman_'s railing, facing the sea, for the first time in nearly six years watching the horizon merely to admire its beauty. Struck by the sight of his beautiful wife bathed in the waning orange light, Will walked over to stand behind her, wordlessly placing his hands upon her waist and drawing her body back against his. Elizabeth smiled, further nestling into Will, prompting him to begin softly kissing her neck. As his kisses became more intense, he slid one hand down to her hip, the other still at her waist, pressing her tightly to him. Elizabeth reached her fingers up into Will's hair, holding him, keeping his lips there on her skin, craning her neck to allow him better access. By the time his kisses made their way to her collarbone, nipping gently at her flesh, Elizabeth had taken all that she could stand. With a little moan, she suddenly spun in his arms, bringing his lips down to hers, her tongue eagerly teasing his as she took hold of his hand and placed it upon her upper thigh, encouraging him to take further liberties. 

With great effort, Will broke their kiss, turning to his wife with an urgency in his voice, "Elizabeth - - Elizabeth, the deck is crowded with crew."

"Mmm, let them watch," she purred, lunging towards his mouth.

Will evaded her kiss, but a spark was alight in his eyes. "Love, I did not know you were such an exhibitionist."

"After last night?" she teased.

"Come," Will replied, grabbing her hand, "we'll continue this in my cabin."

They hurried across the deck to his cabin, stumbling a few times in their efforts to make the journey while entwined, still engrossed in frantically kissing one another.

Reaching the open door, Will abruptly stopped and turned to Elizabeth, a smile on his lips. "I believe this is quite like something from one of the pirate novels you love so much."

Elizabeth took a moment to look about her, standing on the deck of the legendary ship as the sun slid beneath the horizon, her handsome husband looking every inch the buccaneer. She let out a blissful sigh. "It is, isn't it?"

Laughing, Will kissed her, once more, as he began to lead her inside the room.

"Captain Turner," she said, adopting a coquettish tone, "are you certain it's entirely proper for me to be alone with you in your cabin? A pirate such as yourself may have immoral purposes."

"Only ravaging you," Will replied, seeking her lips.

"William."

Will and Elizabeth slowly turned, somewhat baffled by the interruption. Jack stood before them, looking rather amused.

"I need to speak with you," he said, directing the statement toward Will, who glanced at his wife reluctantly.

With a last look of regret, Elizabeth reached up to seductively whisper in Will's ear. "Don't be long," she murmured, torturously capturing his lobe between her teeth before slipping into his cabin and closing the door.

Dazed, Will shook his head slightly, trying to clear his fogged mind.

"Not quite the eunuch, anymore, eh?" Jack smirked.

Regaining conscious thought, Will narrowed his eyes at Jack.

"Much better than practicing three hours a day, am I right? 'Course that all depends on what you're practicing."

"Jack," Will warned.

"Alright, alright. I actually have a purpose to this conversation - "

"Other than making lewd insinuations about Elizabeth?"

"You choose to enjoy her in public, mate, I'm gonna watch - you can count on that," Jack teased. "I must admit, though, I _am_ rather proud of you. 'Course, there are still some things I could teach you, but I'm sure Elizabeth will let you try - "

"Jack," Will interrupted, his voice making it clear this topic was at an end.

Jack wore a devilish grin. Nevertheless, he knew better than to continue to goad Will. There were more pressing matters on his mind. "What are you going to do with the key?"

Will raised his eyebrows somewhat smugly. This was the part he had been waiting for.

"Give it to me," Jack suggested.

Will laughed wryly. "I knew enough to realize that Captain Jack Sparrow had a plan of his own all along. You never meant to endanger Elizabeth or our son."

"No, but I couldn't let Barbossa, once again, take what's mine," Jack continued. "You know that I wanted immortality. I still do, but I also want the _Pearl_ back. She's mine _alone_. How would you feel 'bout sharing 'Lizabeth with another man?"

Jack could see the anger burning in Will's eyes at the thought. "Then you know why I had to do what I did. I've been waiting for the opportune moment. Soon as I found out you had the key, I knew it had arrived. Barbossa was of the mind to go after 'Lizbeth and your whelp, use 'em to force you to give him the key, and I know you well enough to know how you'd take to that. He always did underestimate the lengths you'd go to ta save her – and that's before the two of you went and procreated."

Will silently listened to Jack, deep in careful contemplation, but it was clear he was softening to him.

"Give me the key, William. Whoever has control of the key, controls the Fountain - _eternal life_; therefore, the crew; therefore, the _Pearl_. I've been waiting nearly six years to have my ship back – just as long as you have for her."

"I know," Will answered quietly, pausing for a moment. "You didn't have to do what you did, all those years ago. All three of us owe our lives to you, Jack. I would gladly give you whatever is in my power to give, but there's more at stake here then merely you living forever. I have a duty to perform. They key was on the _Dutchman. _Therefore, it's a part of that duty."

"I won't let if fall into the wrong hands," Jack assured. "This is a simple choice. It's all about needs, mate. I needed the key. Your dearly beloved needed you. Barbossa needed leverage. And _you_ still need _me_."

"How so?"

"Your wife and child are still very much in the Land of the Dead, with you four years shy of the ability to return with them." Will opened his mouth to protest, but Jack stopped him. "Before you start, I know you must have a way to get 'em back – knew it all along - else wise you would never have been so calm. But, once you get 'em back, then what? Who's to say Barbossa won't dump the boy and his mother into the sea as soon as we get to the other side?"

Will thought on this.

"I am," Jack declared. "I'll deal with Barbossa, take them safely home - even see to it that they're well in your absence. And why not? Haven't we been through enough together? You're the better part of some of my stories. Though I wouldn't admit it to anyone else, I've used my connection with you a time or two; your tale goes over well with the wenches in Tortuga."

Will laughed. This was as close to a moment of fond camaraderie as the two pirates had ever had. "William tells me you've been kind to him," Will said, "bringing him trinkets from your voyages around the world."

"Aye -- but, in the boy's eyes, no one can match his father."

Will smiled. "You'll see to it they're cared for?"

"I will."

Will reached into his shirt and withdrew the Fountain's key. "I never had the chance to thank you, Jack, but I do."

Jack nodded. "Though I brought you a fate nearly as harsh," he said in an uncharacteristicly quiet voice. "For you, being separated from them must be neigh onto death."

Will's eyes acknowledged the truth in his statement, still he shook his head. "No. You guaranteed us happiness, after a small postponement. For that, I will always be grateful. Here," he said, handing Jack the key. "I hope it brings you the same happiness."

Jack studied the key, after all these years, finally holding victory in his hand.

"But," Will continued, "tell no one you have it until morning – better still, until you're on the other side." He softly added, with earnest, "I want this night with her."

With a slight smile, Jack pocketed the key and turned away, heading back to the _Pearl_.

Certain he'd done the right thing, Will slowly opened the door to his cabin, stepping inside. The sight that met him took his breath away. Elizabeth was clad in a decadent negligee that clung magnificently to her body. At least three quarters of the time they'd shared together since becoming husband and wife was spent completely disrobed. Yet there was something intensely erotic in the sight of her, dressed this way, which drove Will to distraction. Never taking his eyes off her, he quietly closed the door behind him.

Elizabeth felt suddenly shy under his gaze. Averting her eyes, she explained, "I – You – You never had the chance to see me in pretty night things. I thought…."

Without a word, Will made two quick strides across the room and reached for her.

Elizabeth smiled as he peppered kisses along her jaw. "It's meant to show me off to my best advantage."

Will's lips grazed her ear as he whispered, "It's lovely, but your _best _advantage will be after I've removed it."

Turning, he brought his mouth down on hers, kissing her hungrily, as she met him with the same fervor.

"Captain Turner," she breathed, as he nibbled at the tender skin beneath her ear, "I'm still not certain this is proper for an innocent maiden, such as myself."

"Damn propriety," he growled, claiming her lips, once more.

Elizabeth brought her knee up to Will's hip, seeking more intimate contact, rocking slightly against him, eliciting an instant response from her husband. His hand found its way between them, under the silk of her dress, moving up her inner thigh, slowly fondling her, enjoying the soft whimpers emitting from his wife. Dropping her head back in pleasure, she unwittingly exposed the generous amount of cleavage the gown left uncovered. Brushing the fabric aside, his lips instantly alighted there, sucking at the skin, slowly driving her out of her mind.

"Elizabeth," he spoke her name in desire, his lips still on her breast.

Her eyes opened at the sound of her name. "I thought I was 'the maiden'," she whispered between gasps of breath.

"You will be," he promised, looking intensely into her eyes, "many other nights. But tonight, I want you as my wife, _my_ Elizabeth."

"But we were to play," she weakly argued, pulling back from him. The rapid rise and fall of her bosom gave her away; even this disagreement was a game for her - and he was more than willing to play.

"Elizabeth," he whispered, following after her retreating steps. "Elizabeth," he repeated, his voice softer, warmer, more caressing.

"Oh but, Will, that's not fair. When you speak to me _that_ way, I - ," she pleaded, cornered, at last, as he trapped her body against the wall with his own. "I – I can't - "

"Elizabeth," he murmured in dulcet, sensuous tones.

She gave forth a little sigh. "Will," she breathed, his name a whispered exaltation.

He moved to easily capture her lips, finding she met him halfway. Kissing her madly, with wild abandon, leaving her utterly senseless, he suddenly withdrew his lips. She leaned into him, her lips seeking his again - seeking more of him - but he pulled back just out of reach.

"You are mine this night? My wife? My Elizabeth?"

"_Every_ night," she readily agreed, and brought his lips back to hers. The next thing she was consciously aware of was her nightdress in a pool of silk at her feet and Will carrying her to the bed, expertly making love to her with such a fervor and intensity it was all she could do to remember to breathe.

Hours later, she rested atop him as he placed kisses in her hair, her body still quivering in pleasure at the memory of all the ways he had just loved her.

"Will?"

"Hmm?" he answered, looking down into her eyes.

"As hard as it is for me," Elizabeth began, "it must be more difficult for you, here in this eerie place….When I'm gone, you….you mustn't forget what it's like – how beautiful it is when we're together, in moments like this."

"Forget?" he looked at her incredulously. "There were times over these long years when I wished - when I prayed - that I could forget for an instant, for a moment of peace, but you haunt me constantly. Believe me, Elizabeth, I am in _no_ danger of forgetting moments such as these."

"I'm sorry, my love," she said, running her fingers in soothing circles across his shoulders. "I never wished to torment you so. But, I must confess, in spite of your suffering, the idea of you loving me and wanting me so very much isn't _entirely_ unpleasant to me." Rising up on her elbow, she regarded him, her hair falling in a cascade upon them both, curtaining them off from the rest of the world. "Do you forgive me?"

Will took a lock of her hair between his fingers. "For wishing me to love you? It's a high offense, but I think I can manage to - "

He was cut off by his wife's lips and tongue teasing the skin of his scarred chest. "I take it, then, that my Elizabeth no longer wishes to talk, but has other things on her mind."

She did not reply, but continued her assault, moving to his abdomen, hands joining in her efforts, watching and enjoying the change in his eyes at her touch.

"Very well," Will said, fire in his eyes, as he turned and easily trapped her against the mattress. "If pretty words are not what you're after, perhaps I can give you something else," he offered. The way in which she looked at him, with pure unadulterated desire, pushed him past the point of games, and he moved to claim her. "I hope you've no objections, then, for this pirate is about to utterly ravish you."

"I shan't argue," Elizabeth replied, placing his hands very improperly upon her body.

* * *

Later, when a kind of peaceful calmness had settled in, they lay in each others arms, Will softly running his hands up and down her spine. They were all too aware that their time together was drawing to a close, and they'd spoken of what to expect and where they'd meet when the time came, both knowing it would be hard to give each other up, yet again. Their conversation soon turned to the benefits and powers of the Chest. 

"What a gift it is," Elizabeth said. "Now we needn't be so entirely isolated from each other, so utterly apart."

"And to think, we never would've known had I locked my heart away, like Jones."

"I love you, Will," she said with tender sincerity.

"And I love you, Elizabeth. I cannot remember a day when I didn't. You've filled my life so completely, first with yourself, and now with our son."

She smiled, placing a kiss at the corner of his mouth. "I always felt the sea was a part of me, and I always knew I belonged to you. I just never realized the two would mean the same thing. Now I understand the connection that mystified me as a child."

His lips sought hers and he kissed her lovingly as she twined her leg around his. "And now I'm jealous," she continued, "for the sea has you, and I don't."

"You will _always_ have me," Will answered. "I will _always_ be yours."

From there, soft caresses did all the talking, as words became superfluous, unable to articulate all that they felt. In the midst of his kisses, Will took hold of Elizabeth's hand and brought it to rest on their pillow, twining his fingers with hers, forming yet another connection between them as he made love to her.

* * *

More hours had slipped away, and they lie in silence, both knowing that dawn was soon coming. It was raining. Elizabeth could hear it softly falling against the upper deck. She didn't know it could rain in this strange world that held her husband prisoner, but it seemed, on this night, even the dead wept for Will and Elizabeth's cruel fate. It was then that she began to cry tears of her own. When Will felt them moisten his chest, he lifted her head up to the pillow to lie beside him, so that he might look into her eyes. 

Tenderly brushing the tears away with his thumb, he asked, "What's troubling you, my love?"

"I don't think I can do this, Will," she said, her words coming out as a heartbroken sob. "After all this time, to have you with us, to taste what it's like to truly be a wife, to be a complete family…..How will I ever go back to living without you? I can't. I can't do it again, Will. It is torture; I long for you so."

Will kissed her cheek, softly stroking her hair, trying to soothe her as best he could.

Elizabeth sniffed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Will. I know you feel it, too. You shouldn't have to comfort me when you're suffering yourself."

"Shh," Will replied, kissing her again. "I will always be there for you, to comfort you, to protect you, to love you – across the entire sea, even across worlds."

Will pulled himself up to lean over her, studying her eyes. "It shan't be long now, my love. Think of how happy we'll be, walking along the beach hand in hand, as we used to long ago – only, this time, we will be accompanied by a throng of giggling children. I promise. Of course, we'll get started on the latter as soon as I return."

Elizabeth smiled at this, so he continued.

"I must warn you, though, not all children come as easily as William. It may take several attempts - "

"That sounds lovely," she interrupted.

Will went on with a sudden seriousness, an extreme resolve, in his voice. "I will not rest, Elizabeth, until that dream comes true for us. We _will_ be together, and nothing will _ever_ again keep up apart." He bent down to find her lips, sealing his promise with a tender kiss.

"Love me, Will," Elizabeth whispered. "Love me enough to last four long, lonely years."

Never one, such childhood, to refuse a request from her lips, Will kissed her intensely. Slowly and purposefully, he began to make love to her, every caress conveying a meaning. His hands traveled the curves of her body, committing the path to memory, while she did the same with the sinews of his, as they spent their final hours together loving one another, never wanting to let go.

* * *

AN#2: I just wanted to let everyone know that, while this story is coming to a close (there are two more chapters and an epilogue), I'm far too addicted to all things Willabeth and, more specifically, to embellishing on their tale and filling in the blanks of their love story, to let the characters go. 

I particularly enjoy exploring different phases of the Will-Elizabeth relationship, which is what I'm working on next. I currently have two new stories "in production". The first is a Christmas oneshot set between DMC and AWE, while Will and Elizabeth are sailing to Singapore, which I plan to post early next month. The second project is an extension of my Pre-CotBP oneshot, _Longing_, which will end up being around 7-8 chapters in length. So, if you like _The Key to Immortality_, I hope you'll stick around and give those two a peek. Thank you, everyone, for your reviews. Please, keep them coming. They are my Willabeth fuel! And Happy Thanksgiving to all those that celebrate.


	21. Parting

* * *

"We don't say goodbye.

We'll meet again and I'll love you then."

- David Foster

* * *

The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon when Will felt the first twinges of the familiar pull he instantly recognized, along with a sensation that was rarer, yet no more difficult for him to interpret: It was time.

He looked down at Elizabeth, lying in his arms. He would miss this. He would miss this terribly. They had been given an immeasurable gift in the form of the Chest, a way to communicate that would outlast their short visit. Still, nothing could replace this level of intimacy - her head cradled on his chest, her leg draped across his hip, her bare skin against his.

Will reached down and brushed his lips across Elizabeth's temple. "It's dawn, love," he whispered tenderly.

"No," she replied, her voice that of a lost child's. "I won't let it be. I refuse to open my eyes and acknowledge it."

Will smiled at the sentiment. Elizabeth's determined resolve, despite the impossibilities, had been a constant as long as he had known her. "Yes, but I'm afraid, nevertheless, it will come," he answered, his fingers running in soothing circles across her back. "It's time for you to return. I feel it. You must go back to the world of the living, where you belong, where you _must_ stay. I will not have anything happen to you. My sentence is only temporary, but yours would be permanent. Even if you could stay longer, it's not for me to remain anchored here. There'll be new souls to ferry, coming within the next few hours. It's time for the _Dutchman_ to return to its work."

"I'll come with you," Elizabeth replied in desperation. "I'll sail with you. I'll take an oath to the ship. We can be together always."

"And what of William?" Will asked gently. "Is that the sort of life – the sort of existence - you want for him?"

A lone tear ran down her cheek as reality took hold. Elizabeth shook her head. "No, of course not. He must live." All at once, comprehending the danger to their son, she lifted herself from Will and sat up in the bed. "How quickly must we leave?" she asked in a sudden panic.

Will pushed himself up to her, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Do not alarm yourself. The danger is not immediate, but you must leave within this morning."

Elizabeth nodded. "Then I suppose I should gather my clothing." She began to rise from the bed, but Will took hold of her wrist, stopping her.

"Let me dress you."

Elizabeth regarded him with a slightly raised eyebrow, smiling for the first time that morning. "Did you never have toys to play with, Captain Turner?" she asked beguilingly. "Do you fancy me your doll?"

Will laughed lightly, adopting her easy mood. "No. My angel, perhaps."

Without taking her eyes from him, she emerged from under the sheets, standing nude before him. Will's eyes slowly traveled her body from head to toe and back again, admiring her, remembering her. Finally, having taken her in visually, he stood and walked the few steps to her.

Taking note of the look Will gave her, Elizabeth admonished, "Remember, you're to _dress_ me only. Unfortunately, anything else will delay our departure."

"If I touch you once, I will never be able to stop. Therefore, you needn't worry," he said, kissing her nose. "I shan't make any improper advances, tempted though I am."

Smiling, Elizabeth couldn't resist a sudden inexorable urge. Reaching up, she slipped her fingers into his unbound hair, twisting them around his chocolate curls. "Mmm," she ardently sighed, "I've always loved your hair."

Will laughed. "You love clutching it painfully in moments of passion."

"You are the one who arouses such passion within me. Therefore, you are entirely to blame," Elizabeth replied saucily, continuing to play in his hair.

With a slight tremble, Will surrendered to her caresses. "In all honesty, Elizabeth, _I_ love it when you do that," he replied, his eyes closed in pleasure, enjoying the feel of her small fingers working their way through his hair and along his scalp. "Then again, I love it when you touch me anywhere."

"Really?" Elizabeth asked, a naughty gleam alight in her eyes, as she pulled her hands from his hair down across his chest and dipping down his abdomen. Catching herself, she stopped her descent, abruptly removing her hands from his body. "You're to dress me _only_," she reluctantly reminded herself.

With a laugh, Will picked up her shirt from its neatly folded position atop his desk.

"No," she protested, shaking her head. "I want to wear yours. I.…I want to wrap myself in your comfort, in something that feels like you and carries your scent – no longer the fire and metal of the smithy, but purely of the air and the sea."

Will slipped his shirt over Elizabeth's head, dressing her slowly and reverently, allowing himself the chance to treat her as the queen – or was it now King? - he always knew she was. When he was finished with her, Will dressed himself as Elizabeth halfheartedly attempted to tidy her mussed hair, far more interesting in observing her handsome husband. His last piece of clothing in place, Will went to Elizabeth. For a long moment, the two simply stood before one another.

"It seems we've been here before," Elizabeth sadly whispered. "Why are we always saying goodbye, Will?"

"I suppose it is a part of our destiny," Will answered, lifting her chin with his forefinger and bringing her eyes to his. "But it won't be forever. Soon, we will never have to say goodbye again."

Elizabeth bravely smiled for him as he took her into his arms, nestling his face into the crook of her neck and kissing her there. The couple clung to one another, holding on for dear life, imprinting every last memory they'd lived over the past days.

It was Elizabeth who eventually broke the silence. "I was wrong," she said.

Her remark caused Will to lift his head.

"I was wrong last night, what I said," Elizabeth clarified. "I don't believe it will be as difficult as I first thought. Oh, it _will_ be excruciating - returning to the barren desert after remembering what it's like to dance in the rain – but our wait is more than half over now. I'm certain that I've already gone through the worst of it, looking out on ten lonely years, not yet knowing that I carried your child…."

"And now we have these days as a reminder of all that we're waiting for," Will added.

"The prize awaiting us," Elizabeth confirmed.

Kissing her cheek, Will pulled back from her, bending to pick up her discarded nightgown. Elizabeth moved to take it from him, but he did not let go.

"My token of you," he explained, bringing the fabric to his nose and inhaling deeply. "Only you could smell of vanilla and jasmine in the middle of the ocean, aboard a pirate ship."

Elizabeth smiled. "I shan't be needing it in your absence. The evening you come back to us on the green flash, I will wear it for you again."

"A mere four years, three months, and eight days," Will said.

"We'll be there," Elizabeth promised.

Knowing this was their last opportunity to be alone together until that day arrived, Will took Elizabeth into his arms, holding her closely, breathing her in. Cupping her face with his hands, he brought his lips to hers, kissing her tenderly.

"I'll get William," he told her.

Elizabeth nodded, calling to Will as he began to leave the cabin. "See that he collects his toys."

Will smiled at his wife, ever the diligent mother, as he walked out to gather their son.

Will found William in Bootstrap's cabin busily chatting with his grandfather. Looking up to discover his father, the boy's face brightened. "Papa!" he called, running to him.

Laughing, Will scooped him up. "Happy birthday, William."

William grinned. "You remembered! And you're still here, like you promised."

"I am," Will replied. "I will _always_ make good on my promises to you. I'm afraid, though, that it's time for you and your mother to return home."

William opened his mouth to protest, to beg a few hours more with his father but, remembering the stories he had been told all of his life, he understood the significance of his father's duty and all the many reasons why they could not stay. "All right, Papa."

"Mama wants you to be sure and remember all your little toys," Will said, setting his son back down.

"I'll see to it," Elizabeth said as she walked into the room.

"Good morning, Mama," William greeted his mother.

"Happy birthday, darling," she answered him. Turning to Will, she quietly said, "Jack is on deck asking for you. I'll collect William's things and bring him to you, to say goodbye."

Will nodded solemnly and left the room, climbing the steps back up on deck. Seeing Jack, he walked over to him.

"You're making ready for departure," Will guessed.

"We are," Jack confirmed.

"As are we, shortly," Will replied, referring to the _Dutchman_ and her crew.

"I've told Hector that you've given the key to Elizabeth. He won't try anything long as he thinks she's has what he needs. Then, once you get us back to the other side, I'll make as if I've commandeered it from her cabin, thus absolving your dearly beloved and the boy from any trace of guilt or blame."

"And what will become of Barbossa?" Will wondered.

"Leave that to me." Jack paused, carefully scrutinizing Will, sizing him up in the way that only Jack could. "I'll make good on our bargain," he, at length, told Will. "You have my word."

Will smiled. "You're a good man, Jack."

Ever so slightly, Jack returned his smile. "And you're a good pirate."

Will nodded, understanding that, in Jack's mind, this was the greatest compliment that could ever be given. "Then I shall see you again in four and one half years, or thereabouts."

"Aye," Jack replied, looking at his friend one last time. As he walked away, Jack added, "Keep the bandana. It's a good look for you."

Will laughed, turning as he felt his wife's hand upon his shoulder.

"He's ready," Elizabeth said, quietly. "I'll be waiting aboard the _Pearl_." With that, she crossed over to the _Black Pearl_, leaving William, temporarily, in his father's charge.

"Goodbye, Grandfather," William said to Bootstrap as the man shook the boy's small hand, his wooden _Dutchman_ – with family aboard – clutched firmly in the other. "Will I ever see you again?"

Bootstrap was caught off guard by the question, a difficult one to answer. Still, he tried to be as candid as possible. "Lad, to be truthful, I can't rightly say. My future is, at best, unknown. But I will never forget you, or the chance I had to lay eyes upon you." Leaning in a bit closer, he whispered to William, "Grow to be a strong, honorable man, like your father, and I will always be proud of you."

William nodded. "I will, Grandfather. I promise and, just like Papa, I will always make good on my promises," he boldly declared, repeating his father's words.

With a last squeeze of the hand, Bootstrap walked away, giving father and son the chance to say their goodbyes privately.

Will stood facing his son, looking down at the miniature version of himself. Indeed, standing before one another, it was almost like a mirror image, father and son dressed in similar breeches and billowing white shirts, Will with his sword at his belt, William with his wooden counterpart at his.

William must have been pondering this, too, for he told his father, "Mama was right. I _do_ look very much like you."

"You do," Will laughingly agreed.

"Mama says I have to say goodbye to you now," William replied glumly.

"Aye," Will confirmed, "your mama is right, but you mustn't leave yet, while I'm in such error. I haven't yet given you a birthday present."

William giggled. "But you gave me my sword yesterday, and Mama has yours."

"Yes, but that was a _welcoming_ present, not a _birthday_ present." Will quickly glanced around the ship, looking for something to give his son, but coming up empty. "What can I give you?" he asked, thinking aloud.

"It's all right, Papa. I only wished to see you, and I have."

"Thank you, son," Will replied. "I love to hear you say that but, to me, it is not all right. You see, I've never been there for any of your other birthdays. I've never been able to give you a single birthday present before. This year, I _will_."

Regarding his son, once more, Will hit upon an idea. Remembering the extra piece of fabric he always kept tied round his belt to wipe the sea and sweat from his face, he reached down and removed it as William looked on in confusion.

"Turn around," Will instructed his son, who wordlessly complied. Will expertly folded the fabric to the proper size and tied it around William's head, making a knot midway through his chocolate brown curls. "There," Will said.

William turned back around to face his father, reaching up to feel the cloth. "My very own bandana – one of yours?" he asked excitedly. "Now I _am_ a pirate! And I look _just_ like you."

Will smiled at his son, kneeling down and placing his arm around him. "Yes, but remember, son, you mustn't _only_ be a pirate, but also a good man."

"I will, Papa."

"There are still four long years until I can come back to you," Will said. "I know you will always be a good boy, as I have seen it is impossible for you to be anything else, but you will also have to be the man of the house until I return. It is a heavy responsibility, but one I know you can handle."

"I can," William said earnestly. "I will. I always take care of Mama."

"Take care of yourself, too. She needs you William. We both do."

William's eyes shone with pride at the thought of being _needed_ by a woman as strong as his mother and by a father who was a brave pirate hero. "I need _you_, Papa," he said, but suddenly feared this would make his father feel badly. "But – But I will be brave and strong until you get back…..But….I'll miss you."

Will reached up and touched William's face. "And I will miss you, every day – every second. But we will have the Chest, and we can still talk though it. We will still have each other, in a way."

William nodded his agreement.

"Come here," Will said, hugging the boy tightly to him one last time as William's arms wound round his neck in much the same manner as his mother's did. Will bent and kissed his son's cheek, guessing that this would be his only chance to do so as, when he returned, the boy would be too old to allow such things – even from his revered father. Looking into his son's eyes, Will told him, "I want you to know, William, you are the _best_ part of me."

William smiled and hugged his father's neck. Pulling back, he said, "I want to give you something, Papa."

"You needn't do - "

"No," William interrupted, "I must. I want to." Picking up the wooden _Dutchman_ he had cast aside in favor of hugging his father, William plucked the tiny figures of his mother and himself from the model's deck. "Here," he said, handing them to Will. "While we're away from you, you can have our wooden selves. It's not as wonderful as the real thing," the young boy confided from experience, "but it's awfully nice to pretend."

"Thank you," Will said, smiling at his son through misty eyes. "I will treasure them."

Still, William couldn't bear to part with his favorite, most treasured possession. Hoping to explain this to his father, he added, "But I – I'll keep you."

"Of course," Will grinned. "That's as it should be and, when our real family is reunited, so will our little wooden one."

William nodded enthusiastically in agreement. His father gathered him into a hug, whispering in his ear, "I have a secret for you: I have convinced your mama to get you that puppy."

William's mouth fell open as he gasped in delight. "_And_ a baby brother or sister – when you return?"

Will laughed. "And a new baby," he promised. "I will see to that."

William smiled with happiness.

"Come," Will said, taking his son's hand. "We must go over to the _Pearl_ now."

Will raised up to his full height and began to take his son to the ship's edge when an alert from one of his crew stopped him.

"New souls, Captain!" Maccus called from his position as lookout. "On the starboard side."

Will nodded in acknowledgement. "Make ready to sail," he instructed his crew as he took his son across to the _Black Pearl_.

"You have to work now?" William asked, stepping onto the _Pearl_'s deck.

"I do," Will answered.

"And we will go home?"

"Aye."

"Will we fall into the water, like last time?"

"No," Will laughed. "I know a better way. It will be easy and smooth, just a little bump and then you're back."

"I love you, Papa," William whispered.

"And I love you, my son." Will took his boy into his arms a final time. "I will see you in four years."

William smiled and nodded, going to stand beside Captain Jack who beckoned to him.

Turning, Will walked over to Elizabeth, who had been watching her two man say goodbye from a discreet distance.

"Elizabeth," Will sighed as he placed his hand upon her neck, drawing her forehead to rest against his.

"I love you, Will," she replied wholeheartedly. "I'll be waiting for you."

"Keep a weather eye. I _will _come back to you, to stay."

Will brought his lips to Elizabeth's and, once again, they kissed goodbye with all the tenderness, passion, and love they held for one another, savoring the feel of the other's lips upon their own, the other's breath upon their skin. Then, suddenly, Will's lips were no longer touching Elizabeth's. He was no longer in her arms but at the wheel of the _Flying Dutchman _where, for the next four years, three months, and seven and one half days, he belonged.

Elizabeth wiped a tear from her cheek and called her son - who had watched his father's miraculous disappearance and reappearance aboard the _Dutchman_ with a mixture of sadness and wonder - back over into her arms. She held onto William tightly, her eyes firmly on the _Flying Dutchman_ and her captain, as the bow of the _Dutchman_ came into slight contact with the bow of the _Pearl_, causing a jolt to overtake the ship. All at once, the _Dutchman_, the small longboats to her starboard side, and the morning sky disappeared to instantly be replaced by dark, still waters and the bright moonlight of a warm, Caribbean night.

* * *


	22. Beyond Goodbye

AN#1: We are nearing the end. After this chapter, only the epilogue remains. On a bit of a side note: It's December 4th! I'm running out to buy my DVD this very instant!

* * *

"Love vanquishes time."

- Mary Parrish

* * *

From the instant they were plunged into darkness and Elizabeth was, once again, made very much aware that she and her son were a part of one world while Will was trapped in another, an emptiness descended upon her that closely rivaled the first time he had left. It was apparent that William felt it too, as the young boy had a difficult time readjusting, and thoroughly missed having his father physically with him. Still, as before, time continued to march on and Elizabeth knew they must do their best to shake their melancholy and march with it. She told her son this daily, helping him to understand that time was their friend and not their enemy, for each new day brought them closer to Papa's return. This, along with his father's love and encouragement - delivered through exchanges curtsey of the Chest – helped William survive his parting with Will. 

True to his word, on their second morning back, Jack staged an elaborate scene in which he confessed to stealing into Elizabeth and William's room in the night and making off with the key. Once the crew became aware that the key was in Jack's possession, and _he_ now controlled the Fountain, a shift in alliances and power swiftly occurred; it seemed that the promise of eternal life could easily buy loyalty. Thus, Jack found himself, at last, firmly in control of the _Black Pearl_. The fate Jack had in store for Barbossa had been planned many years ago whilst waiting for his opportune moment. With customary flair – along with a dash of poetic justice – Jack left Barbossa marooned on a very familiar island that, to Barbossa's benefit, had re-grown its foliage over the years.

Elizabeth almost felt guilty condemning the man who had joined her to Will to such a cruel fate – especially when William innocently inquired as to why they were leaving Captain Barbossa all alone. However, when she recalled the threats he had made against her only child, any traces of remorse quickly dissipated.

With Barbossa thus dispatched, Jack was free to unlock the Fountain of Youth, drink of immortality, and forever sail the seven seas aboard his beloved _Pearl_. First, however, he had a debt to settle with the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman,_ an entity he had learned to never again renege on one's promises to.

Consequently, with much fanfare and triumph, Jack safely returned Elizabeth and William to their island home, setting sail toward the Fountain quickly thereafter. The abridged Turner family set about reacclimating to life on land - away from their beloved pirate captain - as best they could, ever watching the horizon, ever waiting for that day only four years, two months, and one week into the future.

Though they did hear tidings of Barbossa's miraculous rescue – it seemed no one stayed marooned on _that_ particular island - nearly a year went by without any sight or knowledge of Jack. A mere fortnight after depositing Elizabeth and her whelp in their horribly domesticated abode, he had returned to his fated cave, key in hand, and unlocked the gateway to the Fountain of Youth. Dipping the provided chalice into the waters, he drank from the spring and instantly felt revived, renewed, and rejuvenated. However, it quickly became apparent that, over time, the powers of the water wore away, and it was necessary to continually drink from the Fountain to maintain one's immortality.

This was a set back Jack had not counted on. He wanted eternal life, wanted it even more, in fact, since he had tasted its sweetness. Because of this, he tried desperately to stay put, to stay close, to maintain his connection to the Fountain. Yet, a landlocked eternity – away from the sea, away from the _Black Pearl_ – would be nearly as torturous as the Locker, and no kind of existence for the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow. A great many months went by, in which Jack endured life upon land, until he found himself one evening sitting upon a rock, contemplating the filled chalice in his hand. It was then that he came to the realization that, perchance, immortality, like everything else, had its drawbacks, that eternal life wasn't everything, after all. Perhaps, he thought, the trick wasn't in living forever, but what one did with the time they were given.

Jack discarded the elixir. "I always preferred rum, anyway."

Brushing all such philosophical ponderings from his mind, he grabbed a bottle of his preferred beverage and pointed the _Black Pearl_ towards Tortuga.

Shortly after his raucous celebrations there, on the night before William's sixth birthday, Jack made port on their island, bringing the boy a gift, his mother a sack of coin she promptly refused – until he convinced her it was part of the deal he'd struck with Will – along with the tale of his adventures at the Fountain. While Jack Sparrow would never quite be immortal, certainly his legend would always be, and his stay at the Fountain _had_ increased his longevity, adding a good decade or two to his life.

Jack made certain to tell Elizabeth – knowing she would inform Will – that, while he doubted any true pirate would be willing to trade their freedom, nevertheless, after the _Pearl_ and her crew left, he had resealed the Fountain's entrance. When the day came, he would give the key to Elizabeth so that she might return it to its proper place aboard the _Dutchman_. Until then, for safety's sake, Jack kept the key upon his person at all times.

His stay at the Fountain had generated more wanderlust within Jack than was even customary for him, and he made sail the following evening. Yet, wherever the winds took him, often to the far reaches of the globe, he always found his way back to Elizabeth and William's doorstep, bearing various treasures from every continent and generally seeing they were still alive and well, as he had promised his friend.

The years were kind to Elizabeth and her son. As she had once assured her husband, they continued to want for nothing save his presence. William maintained his spotless record of health, along with his uncanny intelligence, intuition, and understanding. Elizabeth, for her part, retained her youth and beauty, barely looking a day older than she did upon her marriage to Will. Much like Jack, though through a far different avenue, William and Elizabeth's connection to immortality would always guarantee that they enjoyed greater health, increased vitality, and an abnormally long life. Owing to this, they felt they weren't actually _losing_ ten years with Will, since that time would be more than made up upon his return, as all three could look forward to a much longer life than would have ever been possible had Will not been immortal for a period of time.

Knowing the happiness that was in store for them helped fill the void in their lives. Nevertheless, waiting was agonizing, particularly for Elizabeth who, since the age of twelve, was unaccustomed to being without Will. Of course, the same was true for Will but, as a lowly blacksmith in love with the Governor's daughter, he had learned early the bitter taste of swallowing one's desires, locking up one's dreams, and quieting one's longings. Many a day, he had lived with the certainty that what he wanted and loved most would never be his. The simple knowledge that all of this was actually within his grasp, merely delayed for a time, was enough to see him through. Elizabeth, on the other hand, had by no means always viewed a future as Will's wife as a definite event, but she had never once intended on giving him up or letting go of her connection to him, no matter who she might wed. Finding herself with him, at last, yet not actually able to be _with him_ proved a heavy load for even one as strong as she to bear.

She always felt this most acutely on days of particular significance to them. It was on one such a day, years after that fateful battle, that William had just finished saying goodnight to his father. Long after she saw him settled into his room and asleep for the night, Elizabeth lay awake, the Chest resting in its place of honor on her bedside table. She softly fingered the metal handle, tracing the carvings, feeling Will's heartbeat beneath her palm.

"Nine years," she sighed.

Giving in to exhaustion and sadness, she slowly settled back against her pillows, closing her eyes.

Having both Will _and_ Elizabeth become fully aware of the Chest's abilities seemed to strengthen its powers, and vivid experiences between the two were no longer a thing of utter rarity. On nights of particular longing, when her yearning was so strong it caused physical pain, her heart called to him, beckoning him to come to her across the seas.

On this night, in her state of half-sleep, Will came to her, entering into her subconscious on an unparalleled level. Tonight, as always, their surroundings weren't wholly tangible, but Elizabeth was vaguely aware of the sound of the ocean. Yet, none of that mattered. All that was important was that they were together. She could see him, feel him, touch him, and hold him in her arms.

Will stood before her, looking as handsome as ever. The contrast of his love and warmth to her lonely anguish was overwhelming.

Seeming to sense this, Will stepped forward and took her hand. "William tells me that you are unhappy."

Elizabeth's averted gaze was his answer. Gently, he placed his hand beneath her chin and brought her sad eyes to meet his, continuing lightly, "And on this, the day of our wedding."

"Also the day of your - " She stopped herself short, almost ready to say 'death', but he wasn't _actually_ dead. Then again, he wasn't quite alive - rather, a curious state in-between.

Nevertheless, Will understood what Elizabeth meant without a need for her spoken words. All playfulness left his voice as he told her, "I do not remember the pain of that day, but I vividly recall every inch of your skin bathed in sunlight, and every second that I loved you there upon the sand. It is love, Elizabeth, which endures."

A tear escaped her lashes, falling down onto her cheek. Will reached up and tenderly brushed it away. His ministrations quickly turned to caresses as his fingers softly trailed the contours of her cheek and jaw. Elizabeth closed her eyes, giving herself over completely to his touch. Slowly, his gentle caresses ceased, his hand coming to a stop cupping the base of her neck. Elizabeth opened her eyes to meet his, seeing within them that he ached for more. Stretching out her hands to his face, she mimicked his attentions to hers.

A yearning shy escaped Will's lips as his own eyes fell closed, lost in the moment to anything but her love. Suddenly, he deftly reached out and encircled her wrist in his hand, bringing her fingertips to his mouth and kissing them, one by one, drawing the last into his mouth and sucking it gently before placing a final kiss on the soft skin of the underside of her wrist.

"Will," Elizabeth murmured in longing. In response, Will's hands slid to her waist, pulling her body flush against him. She softly pressed her forehead to his, their joined gaze lighting a fire between them. "I love you, Will," she sighed.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "And I love you."

Will bent to her, their lips meeting, at last, each sighing at the pleasure of the sensation. As he quite thoroughly kissed her, Elizabeth's hands trailed from his hips up his chest to his shoulders, causing Will to groan into her mouth. Breaking the kiss, she looked into his eyes, watching his reaction, as she reached her arms around his neck, pressing her body to his as she twined her hands in his hair. Raking her fingers through his curls, she brought his mouth almost roughly down upon her own. Kissing him with a new urgency, Elizabeth asked breathlessly, "Can you stay with me, Will? Will this last? Can we - "

"One more year," Will answered huskily, his lips still touching hers. "Only one more year."

With a jolt, Elizabeth suddenly opened her eyes, finding herself back in her lonely room, lying in her empty bed. Touching her lips, she whispered, "Only one more year."

* * *

Elizabeth awoke the following morning to find William already downstairs in the kitchen, eating his breakfast. 

"You're up early, William. Or has your mother merely stayed abed especially late this morning?" she teased.

"I wanted to speak to Papa before breakfast. I came into your room while you were still asleep and saw that you brought the Chest into your bed," he said laughingly.

With a grin upon her face, Elizabeth looked away from her son, somewhat embarrassed.

William failed to notice, so pleased was he with his mother's easy smile and playful manner. "Papa said you were happy again, after he reminded you there's only one year left until he comes back to us."

Elizabeth looked pointedly at William, slightly dazed from his unknowing confirmation of last night's events. It always surprised her to learn that she hadn't dreamed their interludes – although, after all that they had been through, she shouldn't be. Their love never knew any boundaries.

* * *

AN#2: I envisioned this chapter as an example of one of the dreamlike interludes that Will and Elizabeth share in his absence. After I wrote this section, I heard for the first time a song that so perfectly described what occurs in this chapter that I felt I must give its information when I posted this. The song is called "_For Always_"by Josh Groban, and it immensely adds to the feeling of this chapter and, really, to Will and Elizabeth's entire separation, perfectly summing up the general sentiment I meant to convey. Audio clips of the song are fairly accessible, and I highly recommend a listen because it is quite beautiful. However, for your convenience, and because I feel so strongly that it adds to the chapter, here are the lyrics: 

I close my eyes and there in the shadows I see your light

You come to me out of my dreams across the night

You take my hand, though you may be so many stars away

I know that our spirits and souls are one

For always, forever

Beyond here and on to eternity

For always, forever

For us, there's no time and no space

No barrier love won't erase

Wherever you go I still know

In my heart, you will be with me

For always, forever

A thousand tomorrows may cross the sky

But for always and always

We will go on beyond goodbye


	23. The Rest of Our Lives

AN: For all those who are confused over the ending of AWE, please closely digest and consider the portions of this chapter that directly pertain to Will's return. The breaking of the curse and the explanation of the Green Flash are one hundred percent canon, taken from both the film itself and the writers' own clarification of it. Do not be fooled by silly pamphlets that are in no way connected to or endorsed by anyone directly involved in the writing, producing, or directing of these films.

With that said, here is the final chapter - very long, but overflowing with Willabeth goodness.

☼

* * *

"I have all I've waited for,

And I could not ask for more."

- Diane Warren

* * *

It's surprising how quickly a year can go by, especially when one has something amazing to look forward to. Having just released William from his afternoon lessons one quarter of an hour earlier, Elizabeth sat in their study lackadaisically going over the books. In truth, she was much more occupied with pondering this matter of time. She could scarcely believe that tomorrow would mark the ten year anniversary of her marriage to Will. More importantly, if the legends were true – and she never for one instant doubted they were – tomorrow would mark the day of Will's homecoming. It was almost too wonderful, too perfect, to actually believe. Yet, she knew it to be true. The day, the very moment, she had lived for these past years was nearly upon her. 

Her son's voice in the drawing room brought Elizabeth out of her musings. It was unlike William to be back indoors so soon after being dismissed to his own volition. Rising, she made her way through the house to see what had caused the anomaly.

"Captain Jack," William said plopping down upon the settee. "It must be at least six months since we've seen you. What have you been up to all this time?"

"Adventures, boy," he replied. "What else would you expect of Captain Jack Sparrow?"

William failed miserably in his attempt to stifle a giggle. "Adventures?" he questioned doubtfully, sounding an awfully lot like his mother. "By that, you mean adventures in Tortuga."

Jack opened his mouth to argue, but broke into a devilish grin at the memory. "I did stop off in Tortuga a time or two."

William made a face. "I don't understand why you like it so much. Mama says it's a horrible place filled with drunken, rowdy pirates and scoundrels of the highest sort."

"Yes," Jack chortled shamelessly, "and a fair number of comely wenches."

William gave him a disapproving look that reminded Jack of the very one a certain young blacksmith had given him on _his_ first trip to the wondrous island. Nevertheless, he continued. "I remember one particular wench who - "

"Jack," Elizabeth sharply interjected, preempting the bawdy tale she knew was mere seconds away.

"Some other time," he whispered to William before turning to his mother. "Lizbeth, you're looking lovely as ever. Having an undead husband agrees with you."

Elizabeth cocked her head to the side, narrowing her eyes at him. "Charming. Tell me, to what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"To this," Jack said, retrieving a key from within his coat.

William's eyes widened at the sight. He knew of only two keys of any importance: the key to the Chest that his father held, and the key to the Fountain of Youth that he had helped his parents retrieve. While he could never forget the way his Papa looked, over the years, much of the time he had spent aboard the _Dutchman_ had faded to a dreamlike blur. After all, he had been barely five years old at the time. Still, he understood the significance of what was taking place. His mother had told him tomorrow was _the_ day and, clearly, Jack must believe it, too.

"Whatever happens tomorrow," Jack declared, in all seriousness, "hell or high water, William will be there. See to it this gets back safely aboard the _Dutchman_."

With a slight smile, Elizabeth took the key and placed it inside the pocket of her skirt. "Thank you, for everything." Whisper softly she added, "He _will_ be there, Jack. It will all be just as he's said."

"No doubt, luv."

* * *

Will stood on the deck of the _Flying Dutchman_ looking out at a calm sea as the wind softly toyed with the knot of his bandana. Suddenly, the light breeze became a full-fledged gust of air bursting past, and the water before him began to whirl and take shape – a shape he knew quite well, for it adorned the bow of his ship. 

"Calypso?"

"William Turner. You are surprised to see me?"

"I have heard or seen nothing of you during my ten years of service," Will replied.

"Yes," she answered with a touch of mystery, "but I have watched you – and your wife."

Will's countenance clouded with concern. "Elizabeth?"

"You needn't be afraid. She is well and knew nothing of my observation." She paused, watching relief wash over his face. "And do you not wish to ask me why I am here, at this of all moments?"

"I do."

"You have served me well, William Turner. You have done your duty truly and faithfully, as I knew you would."

"I have tried, Calypso," Will answered.

"You have _succeeded_, and I am well pleased with you." Her watery form moved toward the _Dutchman_'s edge, stopping mere inches from Will, so close that he could feel droplets of moisture falling upon his skin. "Do you not wonder over the matter of the curse?"

Will tensed at her words, fearing their meaning. Would this be the part where their dreams were crushed?

Will did not answer, but she seemed to read his thoughts. "Ten years is a long time," she said.

"A _very_ long time."

"Longer still when separated from the one you love truly."

"Aye."

"And still, you served me well, never once wavering in your duty."

Will said nothing, regarding her carefully in silence.

"You _will_ be rewarded," Calypso continued. "Did you not realize the significance of our last sunset?"

Will nodded. "The sun was rising in her world, marking my tenth year of service."

"And marking the Captain's one day ashore. Yet, you are not ashore, are you?"

A slight smile quivered onto Will's lips. "When the time came and went with no difference, it gave me great hope."

Calypso returned his smile. "Your duty to me is at an end. Your connection to the ship will soon be severed."

"Thank you, Calypso," Will joyously said. "Thank you."

"I have done you no favor. These are merely the terms of service. Have you never wondered why you, of all people, were chosen to fill this role?"

Will grew pensive, looking away from her. She was right, of course. He had contemplated the subject many a time. Meeting her gaze once more, he replied, "I suppose it was because I would do the job earnestly, never dishonoring or dismissing my duty."

"That is true enough," Calypso answered, "but so would many others. I have no shortage of sailors, pirates, and military men who are all willing to take on the task – and do it justice. Even now, there is another ready to assume the role."

"Then you have decided on the new Captain?" Will questioned.

Calypso shook her head patiently, correcting him as a parent might a child. "Not me. 'Tis destiny that decides these matters. It is bigger than you or I."

As she finished speaking, she turned toward Bootstrap, who was standing on the opposite side of the deck, watching their exchange. Will had failed to notice his father's presence until he followed Calypso's gaze. Still, he appeared unfazed. Bootstrap slowly walked towards them, stopping beside Will.

"Father," Will said, his voice accepting.

Bootstrap tried to give his son some explanation. "William, I – I don't - "

"When I first met you," Calypso interrupted, regarding Will once more, "I told you that you had a touch of destiny about you, and it is true. Your destiny was to free your father, in the process becoming Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ – for a time. This role is not meant for you forever. It was your destiny to free him so that _he_ might take his rightful place."

Will considered this new information. "But what of the terms of service? What of 'for all eternity'? What if I - - What if she - - What if we hadn't - "

"I always knew the two of you would break the curse." Her eyes grew dark for a moment. "It is in my nature to be capricious and as untamed and reckless as the sea, and it was in the nature of Davy Jones to be bitter and unforgiving. But you and she know _love_ above all else. I never once doubted how this would end."

Bootstrap stepped forward, turning Will to face him. "Son, don't hate me," he began, his voice faltering. "I – I know no other kind of life, William. My home has always been upon the sea, as yours has always been with her. Understand, it's not as before. I'm not choosing to leave you to go pirating. Calypso is right; this is beyond any of us. It….It is simply a part of - "

"Your destiny," Will finished. "Yes, Father. I know. I felt it long ago."

Relieved, Bootstrap let out a hearty laugh. "Why did you never speak of it?"

"I thought it best that you come to terms with it on your own. Speaking from experience, I know it's all that one can do." Will paused, taking a step closer to Bootstrap. "I'll miss you, Father."

"In truth, I'm glad to hear it, son, but don't waste your time lamenting an old sailor like myself."

Will smiled slightly and nodded.

"We'll meet again," Bootstrap promised.

Will rested his hand upon his father's arm, prompting Bootstrap to abruptly pull him into an embrace.

"I will never forget that you rescued me when I wasn't deserving of a second thought. You're the best man I'll ever know, William. _You_ never forget that."

"Your time has come," Calypso interrupted, gesturing to the brightening of the sky.

Father and son let each other go, and Will stepped forward.

"William Turner," Calypso began, "your service is complete. You are released from your duty. You are free."

At her words, Will immediately felt a strange throbbing in his chest, causing him to clutch his hand to it. After ten years' time, it took him a moment to recognize the foreign pulsation not as pain, but as a normal, human heartbeat.

In the world of the living, the Dead Man's Chest suddenly vanished from its revered place, hidden in the false bottom of Elizabeth's closet, and reappeared on the _Dutchman's_ deck.

Realizing what had just taken place, Bootstrap reached into his belt and retrieved a knife, ready to take the next step toward becoming Captain.

"No," Calypso said, halting his movements. She spoke to him indulgently, as one might humor a child. "It is no longer necessary. In breaking the curse, they have ended the need for the Chest. It was never a part of the original terms of duty. The _Flying_ _Dutchman_ merely requires a living heart. It need not be torn asunder from your body. Davy Jones served ten years with his in place, and so shall the new Captain serve throughout eternity with his."

As she finished speaking, the Chest rapidly disintegrated into a pile of ash. She carelessly reached out a watery hand and swept it away.

Calypso turned to Will one last time. "Your moment is coming. Your flash will soon be upon you. Your soul will soon be restored."

As quickly as she materialized, her watery form dissipated and fell back into the sea. With a look of hard-earned peace firmly upon his face, Will glanced once at his father, and made his way up the rigging, holding on - waiting for his destiny.

* * *

Elizabeth stood high atop the island, following after their son, who scampered toward the cliff's edge, hoping for a better view of the horizon as sunset rapidly approached. She laughed to herself as William happily sang the Pirate Song she had taught him as a wee babe. He was equally as excited as she - but his was the anticipation of a young boy about to obtain his father, hers was the eagerness of a woman about to reclaim her other half. 

William's song trailed off as his mother joined him at the cliff's edge. His smile seemed to waver, if only the smallest fraction. Elizabeth could relate to what she imagined he must be feeling, and all that he must be wondering. Despite herself, at times, she too had heard the nagging voice that whispered, '_What if?... What if?... What if Will was wrong? What if there is no way to break the curse?_'.

When sunrise came and went with nary a trace of the _Dutchman_ or its captain, Elizabeth's heart rejoiced, for surely this _must_ mean that the curse was at an end, otherwise Will would already be there at their sides to begin his one day ashore. Nevertheless, the devilish voice returned - if only for an instant - hissing that it was all too good to be true, that, perhaps, Will could not come back at all.

With the tiniest hint of a smile, she gathered their son to her. There would be no such voices for them. Their battle had already been fought. Now it was time to collect the reward. She was certain of it. Seeing the sun begin to slowly slip beneath the water's edge, she had never been more certain of anything in her life.

Elizabeth watched the horizon as if her very life depended upon it which, in truth, it did. The final seconds seemed an eternity, as mother and son stood watching and waiting with bated breath, neither daring to breathe. Just as the sun dipped out of sight, a flash of green lit the sky, the _Flying Dutchman _materializing in its center. Elizabeth's countenance was alight with joy as she turned to their son and saw the same expression mirrored upon his young face.

Her heart had never known such peace, such serenity, such happiness, for she well understood what this signified. Hadn't she read the legend in pirate lore since childhood? A Green Flash _only_ occurred when a soul returned from the World of the Dead to that of the living. Will's return on the Green Flash could only mean _one_ thing: His soul had been restored. He was fully alive, once more. The curse had been broken by their true and faithful love.

Across the distance, Will smiled with his heart in his eyes. He could clearly see their figures – one womanly, one youthful – there upon the cliff's edge. No longer immortal, no longer Captain, he could not come and go as he pleased, else he would already be at their sides. Now he must impatiently wait for the _Dutchman_ to reach their island. Still, in all of his existence, he had never been so pleased with the simple sense of being mortal.

From his place ensconced high amongst the rigging, Will watched his two loves hastily descend the cliff, hand in hand, running towards the shore. His heart skipped a beat at the sight, and he rejoiced at the sensation. This was worth ten years, twenty years – whatever price he had to pay. He was home.

When the _Dutchman_ reached as far into the shallows as she could go, Will jumped down unto her deck, finding himself face to face with Bootstrap.

"I have a boat prepared," were his father's simple words.

Will opened his mouth to speak, trying desperately to form some words – any words – upon his tongue.

Bootstrap simply smiled. "Go, son. Go."

With a delirious smile, Will climbed down into the longboat and feverishly rowed toward the island as though his very life depended upon it which, in truth, it did. Drawing closer to the shore second by second, Will could now see them plainly – Elizabeth looking as perfectly beautiful as the last time he laid eyes upon her, their son so much the spitting image of his father it momentarily took Will's breath away.

He leapt from the boat the very instant he had rowed far enough onto shore to set his feet upon land. After ten years at sea, he was momentarily jarred by the difference, but quickly recovered, hastening toward his awaiting family.

Will knew not when or how it had been decided, but William stopped just at the water's edge. With a wisdom and compassion far beyond his years, and a smile firmly upon his face, he gave his mother the chance to greet his father first. After all, his young mind reasoned, she did have the prior claim upon him.

"Will!" Elizabeth cried as she came splashing into the water, running into his open arms.

Will managed to softly utter, "Elizabeth," before, in their frenzied grab for one another, their lips met at last. They kissed as if it were the first time, pledging their love and promising themselves to one another all over again. Breaking the kiss, they clung to each other, Elizabeth nestling her face into his neck. Will could feel her tears upon his skin, causing him to hold her still tighter to him, breathing in the scent of her hair.

Clutching him, Elizabeth murmured, "Never let me go again."

"Never," Will ardently replied, his lips finding hers once more, as her fingers wove round his neck and into his hair.

With a contented sigh, Will rested his forehead against Elizabeth's. Looking intensely into her eyes, he reached for her hand and placed it atop the faded scar on his chest. Feeling his heartbeat beneath her palm, tears sprang anew from her eyes, as they smiled ecstatically at one another, unable to verbalize all that they felt. Coming to an unspoken understanding, they simultaneously turned from each other, Will's arm still firmly entrenched about her waist – keeping his promise not to let her go.

Will turned to his son, who had grown and changed over the years, looking even more like himself at that age. "William," he softly beckoned.

"Papa!" he shouted, bursting toward his father.

Will reached down and swept their son into his arms, his parents enveloping the boy in their embrace.

William placed his hand upon his father's face. "I missed you, Papa."

"And I missed you."

"You don't have to leave again?" he questioned, fear evident in his voice.

Will took hold of his son's free hand, placing it on his chest. William's eyes grew wide at what he felt there. "Never again," Will promised.

Suddenly, Bootstrap appeared before them, causing Elizabeth to pointedly look from her father-in-law to her husband. Will gave her a slight nod of confirmation, and she squeezed his arm gently in comfort.

"Grandfather," William called.

Will set his son back down into the lapping surf, allowing him to go to Bootstrap's side.

"Young William," he greeted him, looking the boy up and down. "You are every bit your father's son."

His words brought a smile to William's lips as the boy looked at his father with unabashed pride.

Elizabeth reached into the pocket of her skirt and retrieved the key. "Bootstrap," she said, "this belongs aboard the _Dutchman_."

"Aye," he replied, taking it from her and tucking it safely into his coat. "I'll see to it." Bootstrap looked at Elizabeth, suddenly nervous at how to express to her what he wished to say. "Thank you," he said softly. "For all that you've done for my son….For being there when I wasn't….For loving him."

Elizabeth smiled genuinely. "Loving Will is easy." She turned to her husband with love burning strongly in her eyes. "Living without him…that was the difficult part."

Will drew her closer to him. "You will never have to live without me again." He softly stroked her jaw, his hand coming to rest beneath her chin as his lips met hers.

While husband and wife kissed, momentarily lost to all else, William turned his attention back to Bootstrap. "Grandfather, are you staying ashore with us?"

"This night is meant for your family alone," Bootstrap replied.

"But you _are_ our family."

Bootstrap smiled. "So I am, but I am also Captain now," he said, gesturing toward the _Dutchman_ in the distance.

William nodded with understanding. His grandfather would not be staying with them. He had a duty now, one he would hold for far longer than ten years.

Bootstrap placed his hand on his grandson's shoulder. "The next time I see you, you will be grown. Follow your father's example and you won't go wrong."

Having broken from her kiss with Will in time to see their goodbye play out, Elizabeth called her son back into his parents' comforting embrace.

Bootstrap regarded the trio a final time. "Fair well," he said, and was gone.

A moment later the _Flying Dutchman_ disappeared.

Will looked down to William. "Shall we go home, son?"

With a grin, William nodded and grabbed his father's hand.

* * *

The remainder of the night went by with the blissful normality of William showing his father about their home, taking special care to acquaint him with every last detail of his room, just down the hall from theirs. 

Will reached into his pocket and retrieved two familiar wooden figures. "I kept them safe," he said.

William removed the _Dutchman_ from its place of honor on his shelve and plucked his father's likeness from the deck, setting it down upon his table. With a smile, Will placed the miniature Elizabeth and William beside him.

"Now it's as it should be," Will stated.

After a light supper colored with the wonderful simplicity of an evening spent together as a family, they found themselves snuggled together in the main drawing room, William nestled between his parents on the settee. With a yawn, he laid his head on his father's shoulder. Will hugged the boy closer to his side, feeling incredibly blessed.

Elizabeth smiled, smoothing her son's unruly curls. "You know, William, it is far past your bedtime."

He nodded obediently, but failed to rise from the settee. Will read his unspoken concerns. "It's all right, son. I will still be here in the morning – every morning."

Reassured, William smiled and climbed down.

"Come, William," Will said. "I'll see you to bed, although you may have to refresh my memory as to exactly where that is."

William laughed, taking hold of his father's hand and leading him to his room.

While her two men were off amongst themselves, Elizabeth slipped into their bedroom to make ready for bed. Opening the door, she discovered that at some point in the evening Will must have stolen into the room, as well, for draped across the bed was her long-lost nightdress - the very one she had promised him, all those years ago, to wear on this night. With a pleased smile, she began to change into it.

* * *

Now wearing her nightdress and robe, Elizabeth made it to her son's door just in time to hear the last of her husband's retelling of his epic battle with the Kraken. Leaning against the doorpost, she laughed to herself. It had been a long time since William had requested that particular story, but perhaps he simply wished to hear it from his father's lips. As she watched Will give an animated account of the events, she couldn't help thinking to herself what perfect lips they were. His time spent aboard the _Dutchman_ had done nothing to mar his attractiveness, either outside or in. On the contrary, she was certain he had never been more attractive then he was at this very moment. 

Despite the liveliness of Will's story, William nodded off into sleep before he had even finished, but the child had good reason. By now, it was nigh onto one o'clock in the morning. Seeing that his son had fallen into a peaceful slumber, Will carefully rose from the bed. He was surprised to see Elizabeth standing behind him, unaware that she had been watching their interaction. He opened his mouth to speak, but she placed a quieting finger to his lips. The two tiptoed from their son's room, gently closing his door and quietly making their way down the hall to their own room.

Once safely inside, Will shut the door behind him and gazed at his wife, admiring the figure that hadn't lost its perfection in the last four years. An electricity filled the air between them. They both knew well how this would end. Hadn't they lived on the imagining of this moment for the past 3,649 nights? And here they were, at last, finally spending the night together in _their_ home, about to make love in _their_ bed.

Will eyed her scarcely clad frame with a burning intensity in his chocolate brown eyes. "Mrs. Turner, it appears that you are ahead of me," he teasingly said, gesturing to her nightdress.

Elizabeth smiled at him brazenly. "I shall have to correct that."

Neither was quite conscious of who made the first move, but they suddenly found themselves together in the center of the room. Reaching out, Elizabeth ran her hands enticingly down his chest, taking hold of the hem of his shirt with her slender fingers and slowly peeling it from his body, discarding it on the floor. Will looked down at her, his eyes darkened with desire, his hands coming to rest upon her back. Wantonly holding his gaze, she bent and placed a luxuriant kiss upon his faint scar, smiling with pleasure as she felt his heartbeat quicken beneath her lips.

"I'm afraid the scar is here to stay," Will breathed, already intoxicated with his need for her.

Elizabeth nuzzled her face into his chest. "I like it," she lovingly replied. "It stands as a reminder of all that we've been through to get to this moment. Every time I see it, I will know how very blessed we are." Reaching up, she softly kissed his lips. "Tell me of our future, Will."

He smiled, trailing his hands from her back to her waist, holding her snuggly to him. "I shall have to readjust to being an ordinary citizen - that is, when we are not sailing. I believe I'll take up blacksmithing again. I must admit, there are parts of it that I've truly missed," Will said. Momentarily loosening his hold on her, he began to fiddle with the knot of his bandana. "I suppose I won't be needing this - "

Elizabeth placed her hands atop his, stilling his movement. The two exchanged a look, Will immediately understanding her meaning. His face broke into a handsome grin. Elizabeth merely inclined her eyebrow in return. From that moment, an unspoken agreement was reached between them. His bandana would always have a place aboard their sailing vessels – and in their bedroom. It seemed, even as an adult, Elizabeth could never get enough of playing pirates with Will.

Will slid his hands up her body, gliding her robe off her shoulders and down her arms to pool on the floor. "I believe I have a promise to make good on."

"Mmm, that you do," she purred.

Will needed no further encouragement, and in a moment's time he had her in his arms, carrying her the few short steps across the room and placing her upon their bed. Elizabeth's arms promptly wound about his neck and back, pulling his body down to lay atop her. Kissing her with intense ferocity, with one swift movement Will divested her of the top portion of her nightdress, leaving her nude to the navel. They both inhaled sharply at the sensation of the other's bare skin against their own. Will's lips left Elizabeth's, traveling down her neck to hungrily explore the lovely expanse of skin he had just exposed.

Her eyes falling closed, a pleasured moan escaped her lips as she was reminded anew of all the wonderful feelings he awakened within her. "And to think," she gasped, "you once had difficulty so much as calling me by my proper name."

Momentarily looking up, Will gave her a rapacious grin and continued his attentions, pleased as he felt her breath quicken and her soft body begin to tremble beneath his.

"Will," she murmured, raising her hips from the bed, willing him to rid her of the remainder of her nightdress. He eagerly complied with her invitation, leaving her completely nude beneath him.

Bringing his mouth back up to hers, he lightly kissed her lips before pulling back. There was something he needed to tell her before they continued. He looked into her eyes with the same softness and worshipful love of the young blacksmith of Port Royal.

"Thank you for waiting for me," Will lovingly whispered, "for setting me free."

Elizabeth smiled tenderly, her own eyes filled with love. "Nonsense," she replied. "You were mine since I first found you in the sea. I will _never_ let anything take you from me."

Will placed his hand upon her neck, softly rubbing his thumb across her check and ear. "I love you, Elizabeth, immeasurably."

"And I love you, Will."

His lips found hers once more and, after so many years apart, husband and wife reveled in the matchless ecstasy of physically expressing their love.

* * *

Hours later, Elizabeth lie entwined in Will's arms, her head resting on his chest, delighting in each beat of his heart. 

Will smiled down at her. "Shall we begin the rest of our lives?"

Her blissful laugh was a balm to his spirit. "I thought that's what we've been doing."

A playful gleam shone in his dark eyes as he sprang forward, turning their bodies and trapping her against the mattress. "No, we've been doing this - " He paused to kiss the hollow of her throat. "And this." Then, up her neck. "And this." Finally, nipping at her earlobe.

Elizabeth giggled, her arms encircling his neck, her fingers weaving into his curls. "Yes, delightfully so."

"The rest of _our_ lives. Have any words ever been more beautiful?" Will asked, gathering her closer to him.

Elizabeth shook her head. "And I am absolutely determined it will be nothing but smooth sailing hence forth."

Will kissed her tenderly, sealing their agreement. "Straight through to our happy ending."

As they made love once more, the sound of the ocean could be heard somewhere in the distance but, for the first time in ten years, neither of them noticed.

* * *

AN: Now that this story is officially complete, I want to thank all of you who went along on this ride with me. Your response has been truly incredible, much more than I ever imagined. I can honestly say it was very hard letting go of this story, which you can probably tell by the length of this final chapter. I've played with the idea of doing a post-reunion, sequel-type story, and I still might in time. However, the next thing I'm planning is a holiday one-shot that I should have up early next week, and then I will begin on the extension of my pre-CotBP story. I hope to see you there. 


	24. The Healing Touch

AN: Here's a little preview to the new sequel, _The Healing Touch_.

* * *

In the nearly two and one half months since his return, Will and Elizabeth had delighted in every second of the happily domestic life they had dreamed of ages ago, but were only now able to enjoy for the first time in their ten year marriage. What they lived daily – and especially nightly – could only be described as bliss, nirvana, ecstasy – or the closest thing to it that any mere human could ever achieve.

But their happiness had been hard-won, requiring a struggle that in their worst nightmares neither one would ever wish to repeat. Will's absence had nearly driven Elizabeth mad, leaving a void in her life that was impossible to fill. Despite the comfort that their son brought her, the many years could not quiet her deep yearning for her husband. She missed him. She longed for him. She _ached_ for him. There was no other way to describe it. The ten years were no easier for Will. Even in the hopeless days of his adolescence, when Elizabeth seemed so far beyond his reach, he could live on the glimpses of and short visits with her he was from time to time afforded. His service on the _Flying Dutchman _was not so kind, demanding a decade's worth of separation from his other half, his heart, his soul.

Yet somehow they had survived. Their love had conquered every obstacle and brought them back together again on the wings of a green flash and, in that very instant, they knew that every hardship they faced and every pain they endured was more than worth it to bring them to that moment. In the days and weeks that followed, the truth of that initial statement had been proven a thousand times over. They had loved each other back to life and, more quickly than either of them imagined, healed the wounds of the past. The pale, crisscrossing lashes on Will's back and the faint scar upon his chest, the most obvious and permanent marks from their ordeal, had taken on a whole new meaning in the loving comfort of Elizabeth's arms. She'd taken to tracing the faded scars with her fingers, lips, and tongue, driving all painful memories of their creation from his mind. And, within Will's embrace, Elizabeth had nearly forgotten what it was like to ever be alone, each day basking in his tender warmth, each night savoring his heated passion.

However, becoming the united family unit they now were hadn't been without its bumps along the way. Despite their immense love for one another, they nevertheless needed a certain period of adjustment. The changes required of Will proved to be the sharpest: reacclimating to life upon land after a decade at sea, entering into an already established family routine, as well as simply becoming accustomed once more to life as a mortal.

In the beginning, the simplest of things presented a challenge. Though the re-placement of his heart had been instant, his body's transition from immortality had been much more gradual, requiring a full fortnight before such fundamentals as food, water, and rest became as necessary for him as they were for his wife and son. For the better part of those first two weeks sleep completely eluded him, having not actually needed any in the past ten years. True enough, the crew of the _Dutchman_, participated in a habitual routine of day and night, each enjoying a certain period of rest from their assigned stations, but it was more for a continued sense of normalcy than from any actual need. Though sleep as an immortal was possible, it wasn't something that Will often engaged in, usually spending his hours of respite in his cabin imagining their son, dreaming of Elizabeth, remembering what it felt like to hold her in his arms and – in his more lonely moments – conjuring up images of the two of them lying together, their bodies entwined. Back on land, sleep as a physical requirement came slowly. Often, after making love, when Elizabeth would drift off, Will would wile away the hours watching her sleep, sometimes tiptoeing into their son's room to do the same.

It was on one such night, three day's after his return, that Elizabeth awoke in the night, rolling over to snuggle into her husband but finding only an empty pillow in his stead. Her sleep-addled mind began to panic: Had she dreamt it all? Was Will still sailing aboard the _Dutchman_, forever bound to the ship? Will, who had returned to their bedroom in time to witness the tragic scene, tenderly called out to her, "I'm here, love", climbing back into bed and holding her for the rest of the night, kissing away her tears.

Such acclimations as these were easily made, coming naturally with time, but the largest, most precarious adjustment – the one that both husband and wife had secretly worried over before their sunset reunion had arrived – was the introduction of Will into William's life. There was no doubt that the boy loved his father and, courtesy of the Chest and the inexplicable connection it afforded father and son, they were not strangers to one another as Elizabeth had initially feared after learning of their son's conception. However, there was a large difference between friendship carried out through daily conversations and shared confidings and assuming the more formidable role of a day-to-day parent. William was in awe of Will and idolized him as a hero, but would he accept him as any everyday father who would tell him to do his chores, enforce a bedtime, and correct him when he disobeyed? Could William come to terms with the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_, the champion of his bedtime stories and childhood play, as a mere man who was sometimes awkward, entirely capable of making mistakes, and was rendered helpless after one smile from the boy's mother? And how would this affect the mother-son dynamic that had prevailed in their household for the past ten years?

But all of their fears proved unfounded, as the two Williams Turner were able to make the transition with very little difficulty. Rather than being disappointing, it was enlightening for William to day by day discover all the many ways that his father was normal, human, and fallible. All of the adventures he had lived and the impossible deeds he had accomplished were done by a mere man, one he could one day aspire to be like. And, while it was somewhat discomfiting for all three involved – Will because it was so new and he hoped against hope to meet his son's approval, William for the same reasons, and Elizabeth because after a decade's worth of complete responsibility it was yet a novel, though lovely, concept that there was now someone else to share the reins of parental authority – Will easily settled into the disciplinary role sometimes required of him. In those first few days, when William returned to his old habits of attempting to avoid his lessons or talking impertinently to Edmund, their groundskeeper, who took a dim view on the boy's constant pirate play, Elizabeth resisted the immediate motherly urge to correct the child, instead gently pushing Will to advise and discipline their son. Though a bit clumsy at first, it wasn't long before each adapted to their new roles in stride and father and son became inseparable.

Rather than acceptance and authority, the most challenging adjustment turned out to be the balance of time and simply learning to share one another – for William could've easily monopolized every moment of his father's time, husband and wife needed their time alone together, Elizabeth still wished for at least some attention from William who had been her daily companion since birth, and father, mother, and son also required time together as a whole family.

This all fell into place a few weeks after Will's return with the opening of the new _Turner Blacksmithery_, a building Elizabeth had bought and prepared during Will's absence in anticipation of her husband's desire to return to his craft. With Will now away during the day, the family naturally settled into a schedule that met all of their needs. In the mornings, Will would attend to his work at the smithy and William continued his lessons under Elizabeth's tutelage, which also provided mother and son their time alone together once his studies were finished. The afternoons found William joining Will at the forge, eagerly learning the art of smithing and sword skills as well as generally bonding as father and son. Meanwhile, Elizabeth used this time alone to go over the books and deal with whatever issues may have arisen with the _Turner Shipping, Co. _Evenings and Sunday's after church were spent together as a family engaging in a variety of activities from visiting the shore, or playing at swords, to simply reading stories in the front parlor after supper.

The nights, from William's bedtime until sunrise the following morning, belonged to Will and Elizabeth alone and they took full advantage of them, getting to know each other's bodies in ways that their short time together prior had not allowed. True to her prediction of long ago, Elizabeth enjoyed making love in a great variety of locales beyond their bedroom. Ever mindful of the small staff and their young son, they had nevertheless explored nearly every room of the house – as well as the gardens and the beachfront – and christened the new smithy in a manner they both enjoyed much more than the formal opening ceremony. While ten years of celibacy had left them both starved for every manner of intimacy and they made love more often than was thought proper for any decent man and woman – even two so happily married – true to Will's prediction, their passion proved impossible to cool and they spent each night sating the hunger for each other that had grown throughout the day.

One particular result of Will's time at sea proved especially beneficial toward this end. In his term as Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_, he had come to know various languages, a necessity of talking with souls that had passed on who originated from many different lands. While this skill was of little use in his day-to-day life on land, they both found it had its merits in the bedroom and, to Elizabeth's delight, Will had taken to speaking to her so when they made love – particularly in Italian and French, the two languages which he discovered affected her the most. Due to her background and breeding as a governor's daughter, Elizabeth was able to recognize some of what Will whispered to her as his lips teased her skin but, with the rest, it did not matter the meaning, only the way in which he said it.

From time to time, William would awaken in the night and steal downstairs to the kitchen for a glass of water or whatever small snack he could find. Creeping past his parent's bedroom, he often heard his mother's playful giggle or, other times, she would be calling his father's name. Once or twice, he even heard his father cry out as he did when he was demonstrating sword skills and had just made an especially strenuous riposte. On this particular night, he heard his mother referring to his father as "Captain", and could've sworn he heard an answering response of his father's intent of "claiming treasure" of some sort. Shaking his head at the curiosity of it all, William continued to the kitchen and then back to bed.

* * *

**The Healing Touch**:

Post AWE. With the curse finally broken and Will's service aboard the Dutchman concluded, Elizabeth, Will, and their nine year old son, William, find themselves yet again entangled in another of Jack's plots – this one taking them to Europe's shores, promising excitement and adventure upon the high seas.


End file.
